Memories Mistletoe and Magic
by Penelope-Jane-Avalon
Summary: Arthur and his knights have slept for more than a thousand years. Merlin has been waiting all this time lost, alone and hopeless. Against all the odds suddenly Arthur is beside him and Merlin finally has a reason truly live again. But first there are memories to tell and Christmas to enjoy before there is danger...Dark magic awaits the return of the king...


Memories, Mistletoe and Magic

Arthur kept his arm slung loosely round Merlin's shoulders as they walked slowly down the hill. Merlin appeared to be in a kind of daze and Arthur wanted to make sure that his friend did not slip in the icy snow. Ahead he could see some single story buildings. Their roofs were covered in snow but the walls were sturdily built of grey stone.

"Is that you house?" he asked cheerfully, "It looks erm…nice, but er… I hope we won't overcrowd you. There are quite a lot of us."

Merlin looked up. "What did you say…..my house? No that's just the stables. I have horses, enough for all of you, although," here he frowned, "you'll probably wonder why I have horses when in these times they may seem to be as necessary as they once were. The house is beyond those trees."

Arthur raised his eyebrows. If the buildings ahead were just the stables, he found himself wondering what sort of home Merlin had acquired for himself. Knowing Merlin he had probably built finer stables than he had a house.

He smiled. "We can look at the horses later. Right now, my stomach is telling me that I need breakfast."

Merlin nodded. He felt so ridiculously happy he could hardly concentrate on what Arthur was saying. The arm around his shoulders really was Arthur's and Arthur was chatting away to him just as he had always done. Merlin could not believe that the enormity of what had happened to Arthur would not hit him at some point in the future, but for now, Arthur was just…well…. he was just Arthur! All Merlin's fears had been groundless. Everything had happened just as the Lady of the Lake had told him it would and it appeared that centuries of enchanted sleep had not diminished Merlin's dearest friend in any way.

Merlin glanced behind at the rest of the party, now hurrying behind him. They were all looking around, a mixture of curiosity and it had to be said a degree of anxiety on their faces. Merlin thanked the gods that he had enough land to protect them from the huge changes to the country they had once known. Albion had changed beyond all recognition. Thankfully apart from his own house and stables, no buildings, pylons or roads were visible and just for a little while longer they were all shielded from what would soon become their new reality.

"Not much further," he assured them, "and then you will be in the warm."

They pushed on through the line of trees and Arthur's mouth dropped open.

Ahead was a huge stone built house, with two separate wings. It had no fortifications whatsoever but was easily the size of any of the manor houses that had once belonged to the great families of Albion.

It had masses of windows and from some of them blazed lights that seemed impossibly bright in the early morning gloom.

"Gods Merlin! How many candles are you burning?"

Merlin smiled.

"None! That's electric light you are seeing."

"Magic?"

"No, nothing of the kind. That is a light devised by men without a magical bone in their bodies and I will explain it all to you just as soon as we have eaten. Until then, I hope you will all relax and just enjoy whatever food I can muster."

Arthur stared at the lights. In one long bay window. They were beautiful colours and he found he could hardly take his eyes from them. What kind of a world had he walked back into? Seemingly a world that was lit by the light of a million candles!

"We'll go through the back door into the boot room," said Merlin, "that way we won't tread snow all through the house."

"Boot room?" Arthur looked blank.

"Yes, the room where you put all your muddy boots and shoes, wet coats…..you know."

Arthur nodded although he had never heard of such a thing. Surely a stone floor and some rush matting could cope with a bit of melting snow.

The warmth that came to meet him, when Merlin opened the door, was very welcome, but the room they walked into was very small for so many people.

"You can leave your boots here," suggested Merlin, you won't need them in the house. We have plenty of heating and carpets."

Everyone looked doubtful. Taking boots off on such a cold day didn't seem like a very good idea.

But Arthur just shrugged and kicked his boots off and after a few seconds thought and a 'look' from Merlin, put them tidily against the wall. There were far too many people squashed into this small space to leave boots all over the floor and Merlin wasn't his servant anymore. For just a moment Arthur thought about George, (Merlin's replacement who had eventually proved such a loyal and excellent servant). One thing was certain, Arthur would never see him again, but he hoped that wherever George was buried, there was some monument to his life.

Arthur's toes twitched. There was heat coming up from below. His face creased into a cheerful smile.

"Come on everyone...boots off. We do not want to mess up Merlin's floors.

Immediately boots were kicked off and Arthur watched with an amused look on his face as each one discovered the warmth under foot.

"Just put your cloaks on the hooks or on the bench and then follow me," said Merlin, already opening the door into a brightly lit room.

Arthur was right behind him, but once more as he got his first look, his mouth opened in astonishment. He had never in his whole life seen such a kitchen.

First there was the huge wooden table. Two high backed chairs at each end and long wooden benches on either side. Above the table hung glass globes, each one providing some of the warm light that filled the room. There were cupboards around the room in some kind of light coloured wood and more cupboards at floor level with a workbench above, the surface of which glittered slightly. On the bench were items the like of which Arthur had never seen. There was also a tall gleaming cupboard and another shiny cupboard on which were a few gleaming cooking pots.

Arthur concentrated on the pots. Apart from the wooden furniture, NOTHING was familiar to him.

He looked at Merlin questioningly.

Merlin held out his hands.

"Welcome to my home...my kitchen. Please, all of you, sit down. I will get my friends in to meet you and then we will all have breakfast."

In almost total silence, Merlin's guests took their seats. Arthur was relieved to see that Merlin's 'kitchen' had had the same effect on them as it had on him. If this was a kitchen...what on earth was the rest of the house like? Merlin had assured him that the lights weren't magic...but surely...they had to be...didn't they?

Arthur started to climb onto one of the benches with the others, but Merlin touched him on the shoulder and indicated he should sit on one of the big chairs at the ends of the table.

Arthur obliged and Gwen took a place onto the bench nearest to him.

"Is this really a kitchen?" Gwen was leaning close and whispering.

Arthur raised his eyebrows.

"If Merlin says it is, then it must be."

"But where is the fire place, the spits, the bread ovens….?"

"Kitchens, Gwen, not really one of the areas I am too familiar with is it? Let's just wait and see, where Merlin goes to cook my sausages. He says he definitely has some and I am starving."

"Maybe I should help him. He looks a little…bemused."

Arthur patted her hand.

"Let's just give him a minute. It's more than a thousand years since he last spoke to us, Gwen. I think he has a right to be a bit confused, don't you?"

Merlin had left the room momentarily, but before Gwen could reply, Merlin returned with two young people.

To say the newcomers looked surprised by the number of guests in the kitchen would have been an understatement.

Merlin spoke, "Everyone, this is Holly and Ralph. They are my dearest friends and they live in the apartment over the garages erm…..outbuildings. They…. um, well they know who I am, I mean who I really am and they know all about you, so…so you can trust them and I hope you will all become friends."

Arthur got to his feet and approached Merlin's two friends. He bowed.

"On behalf of everyone here, may I say how delighted we are to meet you.'

It was Holly who managed to speak first.

"Your….your majesty. I don't know what to say. I never doubted what Merlin told us, but after so many years, I never expected…never thought that I…that I would actually…. meet you."

Arthur smiled. "I'm not surprised. In your place I would have thought the same. But please, call me Arthur. Too many centuries have passed since I was a king and though Merlin swears that I will be one again, for now I am just a guest in Merlin's house… as are all of us. In any case, I am very pleased to meet you.

Ralph stuck out his hand. "Pleased to meet you too, Arthur. I can hardly tell you how much. I've known Merlin practically all my life and he has had so few real friends. Now, here you are, all the old friends he has talked so much about."

Both the young people looked expectantly at Merlin. He nodded. "Yes, everything will indeed be different, but first, we have to organise breakfast. How many eggs have we got and what have we got in the freezer?"

Ralph headed for the back door. "I'll check on the chickens," he said over his shoulder, "I'm sure what with what we have in the fridge, we will have enough to do scrambled egg for every one."

In what seemed like a ridiculously short period of time, Holly was serving plates of hot food. Arthur was transfixed by the 'toaster' He watched in amazement as Holly loaded slices of frozen bread into the slots on top of a shiny container which minutes later pooped out perfect golden toast.

When breakfast was finally cleared away and everyone had watched in disbelief as Holly loaded all the dirty dishes into a cupboard, assuring them that it was a 'dishwasher', Merlin tapped his knife against his cup and stood up.

"I know that all of you are confused and amazed by what you have seen this morning and trust me, it would take me hours to explain it all. So, I have made you all a film. I know you don't know what a 'film' is but, imagine sitting in a room while I show you a lot of pictures and tell you all about each one. It will be exactly like that, except some of the pictures will be moving and I will not have to be in the room for you to hear my voice perfectly clearly. These pictures will tell you everything that has happened since you fell asleep in the cave. When you have watched my film, then I think this new world will make a lot more sense to all of you.

So, if you'll all follow me, I will take you to my cinema room. This house used to be owed by a Premier Division football player. He earned an obscene amount of money, while he was at the top of his game, so you can thank him for many of the luxuries in this house."

Wondering what 'a Premier Division football player actually was, everybody filed out of the room into a beautiful hall. Here stood a fur tree, covered with coloured lights. Around the base of the tree were many packages tied with ribbons and sparkly bows. Gawain paused to stare at it, but Merlin waved him on down a corridor and into a room which was a complete contrast to the kitchen. Rows of seats faced a blank wall.

"Please, all of you, sit down, relax and let the show begin."

The lights dimmed and the blank wall was suddenly covered with a picture. It showed a king and underneath the words, 'King Arthur, Britain's legendary king.'

"Doesn't look anything like him," muttered Percival.

Merlin stayed in the room for a few moments, just to make sure everyone was comfortable. Then, silently, he let himself back into the corridor and re-joined his young friends in the kitchen. They had a lot to discuss.

The film lasted nearly three hours and when it finally finished and the lights in the room, magically brightened, there was total silence. Typically, it was Gawaine who broke it.

"By all the Gods! What on earth have we come back to?"

His sentiments were echoed by the others in the room and Arthur felt forced to take control. What they had seen was dazzling, unbelievable, and frightening and yet not one of them believed what they had seen was anything other than the truth.

He stood up, gesturing with his hand for everyone else to stay seated.

"I cannot believe that any of you are less amazed by what we have seen, than I am and of all of us must be wondering, why we are here? The new weapons, the…politics, the changes to this land…all of it would appear to make our presence here an irrelevance. And yet…if Merlin says we are needed, then we must be. So, we will wait for Merlin to tell us how we may be of service in this new century."

He looked round the room, "Are we all agreed?"

There were murmurs of assent, but Arthur could see both confusion and worry on many faces.

Arthur would have to speak to Merlin alone.

Fortunately, as they emerged from the cinema, Holly requested that she be allowed to show Merlin's guests to their rooms.

As they disappeared up the stairs Arthur slipped away and returned to the kitchen. There he found his friend sitting at the table, nursing a cup of tea.

Merlin looked up.

"What did you think?"

"Gods Merlin! I thought things would have changed but…."

"Not that much?"

"Not even half that much. EVERYTHING is different. It's as if we are total strangers in this place…..as if we come from some other country entirely." He scratched his head. "I just don't understand, Merlin. Why have we been brought back now? How are we relevant? You say you have horses for us. Why? Who rides horses in this century? Just people who keep them for fun or ride them in competitions. I cannot comprehend how I can be of any use in this time. I am just a relic, Merlin. I'm just like a rusty suit of old armour ….present but absolutely no use to man nor beast."

Merlin disagreed. "No, Arthur, no! You are the once and FUTURE king and this is the future…here, now, today! This country has no king. Yes, there are those who could take on the title, but either they do not wish to or they are so unsuitable that nobody wants them. This land needs you, Arthur. It is your destiny to lead the people in their darkest hour."

Arthur frowned, "But how is this 'their darkest hour'?" he protested, "I know there are ….er what do you call them….terrorist attacks but there is no invading army, is there? Or have I just not listened properly to your 'history'?"

"Wars rage all across the world, Arthur, but if man does not stop polluting this world with his waste, then there will be nothing left to go to war over. This pollution is changing the climate and as a result, in some places the waters are rising while in others there is no water at all. Vast areas of land that were once fertile have been turned to dust. Nothing can grow and so the people who lived there must move and they keep moving, searching for a welcome they hardly ever find and searching for safety."

Arthur had seen moving pictures of these poor people and had been utterly appalled. While some lived lives of ridiculous wealth, they seemed to care nothing for those of lower rank. Many in abject poverty were left to fend for themselves. It was not right, not right at all.

Merlin continued, "With these poor souls comes disease, caused by the horrendous conditions in which these people have been forced to live and into this ghastly mix is thrown, religion, the one thing that is beyond reason. People who believe follow blindly, losing their sense of moderation, and compassion and instead filling their hearts with hate for all those who have chosen to follow a different god from their own."

Arthur grimaced. He remembered only too well his father's persecution of Druids and all those with magic.

"But men have always behaved in this way. My father was a prime example."

"And look where that led him," responded Merlin "and things are much, much worse now. It is time for this destructive behaviour to end. We must forget our differences and think only of what binds are together. If not, then it is not just the people of this island that are doomed, it is mankind itself."

For several long seconds, Arthur looked at Merlin in silence. Then he sighed.

"I understand all that you have told me and I do see that leadership is called for. I only fear that your faith in me is misplaced."

"Never!" Merlin answered decisively. "It is your destiny to lead the people of Albion."

Arthur nodded slowly. "If you say so, then perhaps it is true, but how will I lead people who think I am nothing more than a legend? How will I lead people who think that all magic is just sophisticated trickery?"

"They will think differently when they see you in the company of a white dragon."

"A white dragon? The white dragon was Morgana's creature!"

"She was, but she is a dragon and I am a Dragon Lord. She MUST obey me. In any case, long ago the poor creature realised that she had chosen the wrong master. She is my dragon now and will always do my bidding."

"But what of Kilgharrah?"

Merlin's face became sadder and less animated.

"He died nearly eight hundred years ago and his bones lie undisturbed on some lonely island on which he had his lair. Had they been discovered, it would have been thought that his bones were that of some undiscovered dinosaur. Till now however, he rests in peace."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Merlin. I know the creature meant a lot to you."

"It cannot be helped. Kilgharrah was thousands of years old when he died. Sadly, dragons have long lives, but they are not immortal"

Merlin clapped his hands and rubbed them together, as if trying to push away memories that made him sad.

"I assure you," he said enthusiastically, "Athusa is as impressive as KIlgharrah. Her white skin is simply dazzling and with one blast of her breath she can scorch an army. Believe me, when you stand beside her, no one will doubt your credentials."

Arthur felt a twinge of panic. "How long before this happens? I need more time, Merlin…much, much more time."

"You will have it. By the time you present yourself to your people, you will be ready. For now, you have only to enjoy my hospitality and spend some happy hours with your friends and family. In a few days it will be Christmas and even in times of greatest hardship, no-one can ever do without at least some Christmas festivities. I have to tell you that my household is no exception.

On Christmas day there will be presents for all and we will enjoy a Christmas feast. It will be a meal to remember…well that is as long as poor Ralph has been able to buy everything on the list I gave him."

Arthur looked worried. "It seems that at Christmas, EVERYONE gives and receives presents and I have nothing to give you, nor do any of us for that matter."

Merlin laughed. "I don't need gifts. You BEING here is my present. It is one I have wished for a thousand times and now, I have it!" He shook his head,"I need nothing more! Now let's go and find the others. Holly has been making soup. We'll all have something to eat and then I shall take you all up to see the horses. I'm sure you could all do with some fresh air and I own a substantial plot of land so you may walk in the snow quite safely. I only ask that everyone wear their cloaks, WITH, their hoods up, when they are out in the open. Government drones fly overhead from time to time."

"Drones?" Arthur screwed up his face, "Oh yes, I remember, the little flying things that take pictures or carry weapons. But why does it matter if we are seen?"

"Your faces are unknown. Practically everyone is on a government data base and recognition software can identify anyone whose image is captured by the drone cameras. A whole group of 'unknowns' together in one area would be sure to attract attention. For now, it is better if your presence remains my secret."

Arthur shook his head." So many new words to remember. I feel I am only understanding about half of what I am hearing and seeing. I'm like squire at his first tournament….about as much use as …as…sword without a blade!"

Merlin waved his words away.

"Don't worry, you'll soon catch up. Now let's eat."

Lunch was a noisy affair with everyone discussing what they had seen on Merlin's film. Holly had managed to combine several cartons of ready-made soup with all the vegetables she could find and had produced enough soup for everyone to have a large and filling bowl. The soup was followed by ice cream, which proved to be very popular.

Then, putting on their cloaks everyone followed Merlin out through the back door and up to the stables.

The horses were seemingly delighted to have so many guests especially since Merlin brought with him a basket of apples.

Percival led the way into the dim light of the old building, looking into every stall and admiring the fine horses within. He did not stop at any of them however, until he came to the one which was furthest from the door. A huge black head with a white star peered at him. On the door to the stall was the horse's name, 'Percy'.

Percival grinned with delight. This had to be his horse. Why else would it bear his name? He placed his hands on either side of the animal's huge head and pressed his forehead against it. Percy blew down his nose and made no attempt to free himself from Percival's grasp.

Merlin watched happily. "I hope you don't mind having a horse with the same name as you."

"Not at all, Merlin. It's the finest horse I've ever seen. Is he really for me?"

Merlin nodded. "In every century, there's been at least four or five 'Percys', just in case….."

Merlin shrugged. There had indeed been many, many Percys, all of them big and strong and waiting for a big, strong master with the same name.

Arthur had found his horse, snowy white and feisty. As Arthur approached, the beast tossed his head and stamped his hooves. His name…..Diablo, the name of the most magnificent horse Arthur had once owned many centuries before.

As Arthur stroked the white horse, he looked round at the other stalls. "Where's Pebble?" he asked. "There has to be a 'Pebble', here somewhere."

Merlin could not deny it. "There is, but she's very young. She's in the stall with her mother just there on the left. I'm afraid my last 'Pebble' died last year. She was very old, but very like the first one, the one you gave me in Camelot."

Arthur couldn't help it. A shadow crossed his face. Camelot. Suddenly he missed it terribly. He knew that all trace of the white castle had gone, its stones used to build other inferior structures, but he couldn't help wishing that he could see it again.

But that was an impossible dream. This was his reality now. This was his world and like it or not, he was going to have to accept it and get used to it. Merlin was depending on him and he could not and would not let him down.

When Bohart, Merri, Melora and the rest of the knights had admired and chosen a horse, it was decided that they take a walk around Merlin's substantial property. The snow had stopped and although it was still bitingly cold, a few beams of watery sunlight were penetrating the grey clouds.

Gawaine fell into step beside Merlin. "So," he declared, "you are a rich man now. Do you have a title? You are a lord, perhaps?"

"It is hard not to be rich when you have a thousand years in which to do business. I started farming a few sheep in the mountains and a century later I had hundreds. I made a lot of money from woollen cloth. Then I started shipping my goods across the ocean. I had agents in all the big cities of Europe. I bought property and gradually my fortune grew until I had more money than I could ever have dreamt of. I had no need of the money for myself, you understand, but I hoped that one day you would all return to me and when you did, I would need to have everything ready for you."

As to whether I have a title? I am nobody. I have no more presence in this world than a ghost. When I travel, I travel with a different face and a different name. My property and businesses are 'owned' by many different people."

Gawaine looked perplexed. "But why, Merlin? Whom do you fear? You have money enough to employ an army of retainers and your real enemies died in the battle at Badon Hill."

Merlin sighed. "If only that were true, Gawaine. The followers of dark magic are as prevalent today, as they were in the time of Camelot. Were they to stumble across me, they would follow me relentlessly and that would have led them to Arthur, to all of you. Had that happened, you would not be standing here today.

As to employing an army of retainers, very few people have such a thing….unless they are a head of state or maybe a particularly successful criminal, so to do such a thing would just draw attention to myself. No, to keep you all, safe, I have had to keep to the shadows. Even so, as you saw from my history film, rumours and legends about you all, have abounded. "

He shrugged.

"And let's face it, one or two have been quite close to the truth."

Gawaine frowned, struggling to fully comprehend what Merlin was telling him. "So, all these years….these centuries, you have lived without friends, without comrades in arms, without anyone to watch your back. That's wrong, Merlin. That is NOT what you deserved."

Merlin suddenly felt uncertain. What HAD he done to deserve his endless, empty life? But then he looked into Gawaine's kind eyes and remembered how many times Gawaine had helped him, how many times all his friends had helped him and tried to keep him from harm. They were all special, each and every one of them with a different talent and it was his privilege, to keep them from harm, not his burden.

A snow ball suddenly thumped into Gawaine's back. Galahad stood on a bank grinning, already fashioning more snow into a missile.

Gawaine ducked the next one and stooped to gather his own ammunition. In minutes snowballs were flying in every direction and everyone was shouting and whooping and laughing.

As Gwen thrust a handful of icy snow down Merlin's jumper, Merlin could not resist replying with magic. With just a word, Gwen found her arms stiff with frost.

"That's cheating," she cried, laughingly and Merlin released her from the spell immediately. But he was laughing too. Happiness bubbled up inside of him and he found that he could not stop smiling.

As he looked up, he caught sight of a van, coming round the bend in the hill. It was Ralph returning from the town.

Leaving his guests to continue their outdoor activities, Merlin went back to the house. Ralph had the back doors of the van wide open and was busily unloading boxes. Merlin hurried to lend him a hand.

"How did you get on?" Merlin asked as he hefted a huge cardboard box through the back door.

Ralph nodded. "Good, I think. I got all the phones, latest models, sim cards, screen protectors and I got two necklaces from that place I bought Holly's Christmas present. These are different, sort of leaf design. I think the two ladies will like them."

"You always had good taste, Ralph. I'm sure they will be well received. You got phones for them as well though, didn't you?"

Ralph tapped the side of the box he was placing on the floor.

"Yes, all in here. Holly and I will charge them all up in the next couple of days so that as soon as they open them, they can all enjoy taking pictures and videos and stuff. The food was a bit more of a challenge, but I shopped around a bit and I'm pretty sure I've got enough for everyone for the next week or so."

"Anyone ask why you were buying so much?"

Ralph thought for a minute and shrugged. "Not really. One woman said I must be expecting an army or relatives for Christmas, so I just agreed. Said we were also hosting a dinner party on New Year's Eve and that with the weather being so bad all the guests would be staying over. To be honest, Merlin, at this time of the year everybody always shops as if they are planning for a siege, so I don't think I really attracted any untoward attention."

"Not even when you bought the phones?"

"Not even then. I bought a couple in Tesco with some groceries. Then I just bought three or four in each of the phone shops. This time of year, nobody has time to take much interest in their customers. Considering the news, you'd think that people might be bit subdued, but not a bit of it. It's Christmas and everybody just seems determined to carry on as normal.

To be honest, Merlin, Arthur couldn't have picked a better time to return."

By the evening of the twenty fourth of December, All of the Pendragons, Leon, Lancelot, Percival and Gawaine had been into the nearest town and had a chance to view modern life up close. Merlin had taken them in twos and threes and only after Holly and Ralph had bought them new clothes so that they could blend in with the crowds of Christmas shoppers. They went in the late afternoon when the light was dim and wore hats or hoods to obscure their faces.

All of them were dazzled and amazed by the wealth of goods on offer and the sheer numbers of people on the streets. Gwen and Melora spent a good hour just looking at clothes, and Merlin encouraged them to choose dresses for Christmas Day.

"Some people spend all Christmas Day in their pyjamas or in a particularly juvenile garment called a 'onesy'. Holly, however always wears something nice and Ralph and I make an effort."

Gwen frowned. She looked down at the jeans and boots she was wearing. "I would like to buy something," she admitted, "but I don't really understand the money."

Merlin put a hand on her arm. "Choose anything, Gwen. I mean it. I have more money than I know what to do with. I just want everyone to be happy this Christmas."

"Well if you're sure…..maybe this?" Gwen held up a dress to show him.

"Or…..or is it too short?"

Arthur appeared at her elbow.

"I think I would very much like to see you in that," he said with a grin.

He leant down and whispered in her ear. "Some of the ladies I have seen really should NOT wear these short clothes, but you, my love? I think you will look spectacular!"

Gwen blushed and hurried away with Melora to try find the changing room.

After supper on Christmas Eve, Arthur became aware that Merlin had slipped away. Over the noisy meal, Arthur had noticed that Merlin had seemed a little quiet and preoccupied and now he was anxious to find him. They had talked a lot in the previous three days, but there were always more questions to ask. Arthur was determined to understand everything about this new century and make sure that he was truly ready for whatever he would have to deal with in the future.

As he passed through the large sitting room, Gawaine was lounging on a big squashy sofa, watching a shopping channel with Lamorak and Gerient.

Arthur did a double take as he looked at the screen. An extremely attractive young woman appeared to be standing about in her under garments.

"What, by all the gods, are you watching?" he asked, his eyes opening wide.

Gawaine answered, without taking his own eyes off the screen

"Shapewear," he said happily. "Apparently it's what portly ladies wear to make themselves look thinner. The er lady who is um…..modelling? the clothes however is anything but portly. You should watch. It's really very…erm….diverting."

Arthur shook his head and rolled his eyes, but a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. As a young man Gawaine had pursued the ladies with a passion. But then he had met his match and fallen in love with a beautiful widow. Her death had left him devastated and withdrawn and although he had never neglected his duties, he had lost his appetite for life. Arthur was thus delighted to see him getting back to his old self. Sometimes Gawain's ridiculous optimism and irreverent attitude to rules and regulations was just what was needed.

"Any idea where Merlin has got to?" he asked.

"I think he said he was going to his study room, My Lord," answered Lamorak. "Should I go and find him for you?"

The knight was already getting to his feet, but Arthur urged him to remain seated.

"No, you enjoy your erm…'shapewear' and I'll go and find him myself.

Merlin's house was actually two houses. The east wing of the house had begun its existence in the fourteenth century and had been altered and added to right up to the seventeen hundreds. By contrast, the west wing of the house was barely ten years old. It was a modern copy of the old property, matched to the smallest detail on the outside, but with the interior offering larger rooms and every modern convenience. It was in this part of the house that the modern kitchen was located and the biggest bedrooms. The décor was beautiful, full of clean lines and uncluttered surfaces. But for Arthur, it did not have the warmth or homeliness of the old original building. As he walked through the conservatory, a dazzling three story high glass creation full of orchids and ferns, he felt as if he was stepping back in time.

The stone flagged floors did not warm his feet and the furniture was heavy oak, but it nevertheless gave him a feeling of home that the modern parts of the house did not. It did not surprise him in the least that Merlin's study was located in the east wing.

The study door was shut and so he knocked before attempting to enter.

"It's me," he called. "Are you busy or can we…..?

Merlin opened the door.

"Never too busy for you, Arthur. Come in. I was just um ….just thinking."

"About what?" asked Arthur as he followed Merlin into the cosy room.

Merlin sighed.

"Just thinking about another Christmas Eve… a long time ago."

There was a wistfulness in his voice, that Arthur could not fail to notice and it bothered him when everyone else seemed to be so cheerful.

"Want to tell me about it?" he asked, settling himself into a comfortable chair in front of the open fireplace.

Merlin sat in the chair opposite and for a moment just stared into the flames in silence.

The logs crackled and sparked, but they provided a welcoming warmth and a golden light that added to that of the candles flickering on the mantelpiece and the iron chandelier above.

There was no electric light in the room and Arthur thought it all the nicer for that fact. Sometimes he felt that the modern lights gave him a headache.

He waited for Merlin to speak. The days when he would taunt Merlin over his thoughtful silences were long gone. Something was bothering his friend and Arthur was anxious to know what it was.

"Would you like a drink?" Merlin indicated the jug on the table at his elbow. There was a glass goblet already half drunk and another empty glass beside it.

"It's mulled wine…..not as good as the stuff George used to make, but quite good all the same. A taste of Camelot…perhaps?"

"I'd love some wine. I just finished watching your film again. I think I need something. I still find it hard to take it all in."

Merlin filled the goblet and passed it over.

"Do you think the others are all right?" he asked, his eyes filled with concern. "I do realise it must be a bit overwhelming for everyone."

Arthur knew that it was indeed the case, but he did not want to dishearten Merlin, especially when it was obvious that Merlin had made so much effort to prepare for their return.

"I think we are all doing very well," he answered. "Gwen and Merlora are upstairs watching a film about Camelot. Lancelot, Tristan and Leon are playing cards, Gawaine and some of the others are watching 'shapewear', Percival's watching something called 'Life on Earth'…it's all about animals I believe and I think the Merri, Bohart and Galahad are over with Ralph playing video games on the television. Hector is chopping wood outside, but really everyone is absolutely fine. We all love your house and we are being very well entertained."

Merlin sighed. "I'm glad. All I want is for everyone to be happy. There is so much to be done and it will not be easy. I want everyone to get used to this century before you have to reintroduce yourself to a disbelieving public."

Arthur took a long drink from his goblet and for a moment concentrated on the taste and the aroma as the mulled wine slid down his throat. It did remind him of Camelot and if he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine that George was standing close by, an anxious look on his face while he waited to see if Arthur would approve of his creation. Poor George. He had turned out to be been a most excellent manservant and no one had ever been as desperate as he had been to please his king. Arthur hoped that he had escaped Camelot unhurt after the last battle.

He turned his attention back to Merlin, who was refilling his glass. There was definitely something troubling him.

"So, what happened on this other Christmas Eve?" he asked.

Merlin rubbed his forehead. "I killed a man."

He brought the goblet to his lips and emptied it.

Arthur frowned, but said nothing. If Merlin had killed someone, they must certainly have deserved it.

"I killed a man and turned his body to ash so that no trace of him was left for anyone to find."

Still Arthur said nothing. He would not offer a word of censure. He would only wait for Merlin to tell him the circumstances of this death, if indeed he chose to reveal them.

"It was1822 when I first met my fourth wife. I had been alone for more than two hundred years, but after the death of my third wife, I had promised myself never to wed again. I did not want the sadness that I knew would come, nor did I want to risk discovery by involving myself too deeply in the world of men.

The weather that year was appalling and by February heavy snow was falling. One of my many houses was in the heart of London, which was by then a very big city and in the bitter cold the poor and disadvantaged had begun to suffer most terribly. There was ice on the River Thames, not thick enough for a 'Frost Fair" as it had been many times in the previous century, but enough to freeze small boats to their moorings and to trap unwary birds.

On the surface, Great Britain, under Queen Victoria, was a modern place, with our armies conquering the world and new inventions appearing all the time. But while the rich lived well, the lives of the poor had improved little. Those who lived in towns were crammed together like bees in a hive with no patch of soil to grow their food or to keep an animal. Everything had to be bought and in winter, food prices were high. When I walked the streets, I frequently saw tiny children begging for food and it was not uncommon for the poor to die of starvation, even though a hundred yards away, someone could be dining on duck and pheasant.

Eventually through the help of my solicitor, I set up a hostel in an old warehouse. Those without food or shelter could come there, be fed and given a place to lie down which was warm and dry. I also opened an orphanage and that winter took in over seventy abandoned and starving children.

One evening after I had looked in on the warehouse and seen that it was crammed full of desperate people, I found that I could not go back to my beautiful, warm house. It seemed so unfair that I should live in such luxury and comfort while so many suffered. In a pointless exercise of self-punishment, I set out along the riverbank, tramping through the freezing snow and ice.

Quite by chance, when the snow began to fall even harder, I took refuge in an abandoned building. As I sort to find somewhere where the roof was still in good enough repair to keep the snow off my new coat, I found that someone else had got there before me.

Huddled against a wall were a young girl and a tiny child. The light spilling from a rancid tavern in the same street, showed them to be white with cold and in clothes that were wholly insufficient for weather…..or should I say 'unsuitable". The use of words has changed so much over the years. Sometimes I find myself speaking in the rhythms of another century.

Anyway, as I approached, the girl held the child even closer and begged that I allow them this place of shelter. There was terror and hunger in equal measure on both their faces and I quickly sought to reassure them that I only wished to share their shelter for a moment or two.

As I moved closer, I could see that the girl's left arm was hanging limply at her side and when she tried to move it, physical pain was added to the anguish that already distorted her pretty face, for she was, even in such a pitiful state, incredibly lovely.

I guessed that her arm was broken, and I knew that I could repair it in an instant. But how was I to get her to allow me to touch her when she was obviously so very afraid of me.

So, I kept my distance and began to talk to her. I told her that I was the owner of the warehouse wherein people like her and the little child, whom she later explained was her brother, could find shelter. If she would allow it, I would accompany her there and personally provide them both with much needed food. I could see in her face that she wanted to accept my offer but that she was too afraid to trust me.

I did not want to frighten her, by forcing her to come with me, so I am afraid I used magic to dissolve her reticence, and having called a handsome cab, I took them home with me.

You probably think I was foolish to involve myself in the lives of these children, but I simply could not leave them at my warehouse. Although warm, it was not really the place for them. Many of the people who took refuge within did not have the highest morals and such a beautiful girl would doubtless have attracted all the wrong kind of attention.

My London town house had six bedrooms, three of them in the attic, ostensibly for servants. I employed but two servants, mainly, to be honest, to stop neighbours wondering about the way I lived. A single man, in a large town house, without a servant would definitely have been considered odd. One of my servants was a young man called Harold. He looked after my horse and drove my carriage. The other was a kindly lady in her sixties named Mrs Hawkins. She had lost her entire family in an outbreak of typhoid fever and so like me she was alone in the world.

It was to her that I entrusted these two young people, but not until I had healed the girl's broken arm. As I attended to it, I noted that she had many bruises around her forearm and wrists, and it seemed obvious to me that someone had dealt with her very harshly.

The following morning, Mrs Hawkins asked me if she should feed the children in the kitchen, but I decided that I should meet them properly and find out what had dire circumstances had led to them being without shelter on such a terrible night.

I had noted, the previous night, that their clothes, though dirty, were of reasonable quality and not the kind of things normally worn by the homeless.

So, what, you must be wondering, did I find out?

The girl was named Daisy. She was fifteen years old…..I had thought her younger because she was so slight in stature… and the boy just two. He was named Freddie and they were, Daisy told me, brother and sister. It appeared that after the death of their mother some three years previously, their father had begun to treat them both in a vicious fashion. He regularly beat them and had prevented Daisy from attending school Having sacked their only servant, he demanded that Daisy do all the housework and generally act as both housekeeper and skivvy.

When her father finally broke her arm and refused to let her see a doctor, Daisy decided that she had no alternative but to run away.

She had thought she would be able to find work, since she was able to read and write and was indeed well spoken. But all her efforts had been in vain and when I found them on that dreadful night, they had been without food and lodging for two days. What little money she had been able to find before leaving home, had long been spent on food and a coach trip form Birmingham, the town from which they had escaped. Unfortunately, with one effectively useless arm, there was little, if anything, she could do.

I pressed her about the abuse she had suffered at the hands of her father and reluctantly she described his terrible rages and the harsh treatment he had meted out to her when he was under the influence of alcohol. She had borne it, she declared, as long as she could and had only left home when she could bear it no longer.

She was of course amazed that her arm no longer pained her. I lied and said that I was a doctor and she accepted this without question. Later she would admit that she was at a loss as to how any doctor could mend a broken arm in just one night, but at the time, she only thanked me for my help.

At this time the boy Freddie, was totally silent. In fact, it was many days before he uttered a word. Even then his vocabulary was extremely limited and very poorly pronounced. You see, he had had no opportunity to speak, being always afraid of attracting the wrath of his bullying father.

I could never allow them to go back to the care of such a man. I'm sure that you know me well enough, to know what I decided to do."

"You kept them safe in your home."

This was not said as a question. Arthur knew Merlin as well as he knew himself.

"Yes. Mrs Hawkins was by then sixty-five years old. She was very active for her age, but she was not at all averse to having some help around the house or looking after little Freddie. He was such a quiet and biddable child, and as he shared a bedroom with Daisy Mrs Hawkins was never disturbed at night.

And so, we became to all intents and purposes, a proper family. Mrs Hawkins quickly grew to love her new charges and was very grateful to all the help she received from Daisy. With my help, Daisy also pursued her studies, and gradually Freddie found his tongue and was soon chatting away like all children his age. In many ways he was quite like Bohart when he was little, always fascinated by insects and birds and dogs and cats, indeed, every animal he came across. As a result, we took on both a stray dog and a cat, one of many cats I have owned.

I cannot tell you how happy all this made me. I had been solitary for years and my sprits were very low. Having these two young people to care for, made me feel that life was worth living again.

I have to admit that although I still visited the cave to check that everything was at it should be, I went a lot less and stayed only a short while. I no longer wanted to be away from London for any length of time.

As the centuries passed, I expected less and less to see any sign that I should wake you and I suppose if I am really honest, I had simply stopped hoping. Going to the cave had become part of my routine, but I had stopped expecting that anything would change.

Merlin paused for a moment. He refilled his goblet and took another long drink.

"And so, we came to our third Christmas together. We had shopped and bought presents and decorated the house with holly and mistletoe. We had found the biggest piece of wood we could lay our hands on and forced it into the fireplace so that we had our very own Yule log and everything was prepared. We had no Christmas tree for that tradition did not arrive in this country until the 1840's.

I should explain that my London House had an observatory on the roof. I had a large telescope and I passed many happy hours looking at the stars. Both Daisy and Freddie loved to watch the stars with me and so on Christmas Eve, when the fog that had plagued the city for days had finally dissipated, Daisy and I were up in the observatory looking at the night sky. Daisy had already put her little brother to bed as it was very late.

I heard our dog, 'Fluffy'…..Freddy had named him and I can assure you he was not at all 'fluffy'….. begin to bark.

Someone was at the door.

By leaning out of the window, I could just see a man standing by our front door. I don't know why, but immediately I felt uneasy. We had few visitors and almost none who were unexpected. It was also very late in the evening, not at all the time one would expect callers.

I left Daisy studying the moon while I went downstairs. It was a full moon that night and we had a glorious view of it in the clear air.

I opened the door cautiously to find a tall heavily built man leaning on a, silver handled walking stick. Even though his face was shaded by the brim of his hat, I could see his unshaven scarred cheeks. He was not a pretty sight.

Before I could make any enquiries as to why he was at our door, he smashed his hand into my chest and pushed his way inside.

"I've come for the brats," he told me. His voice was as harsh as his face.

"Daisy, Freddie. Hand them over now!"

I knew that this unpleasant intruder could be but one person…my young charges' natural father.

My first thought was to lie and claim that I didn't know what he was talking about, but he was already speaking.

"Don't bother to try and deny it," he shouted, "They are here….I know it. I followed them home from the market with some woman. So, fetch them for me right now."

Here he pushed his face so close to mine, that I could smell his breath."

Merlin grimaced. "He stank of alcohol and rotting teeth."

"And you'll pay me, you filthy bastard," "he continued, "You'll pay me for whatever you've been doing to my daughter. She's mine!" he shouted, "and you WILL pay."

Arthur was riveted by Merlin's story and wished with all his heart that he could have been by Merlin's side when this monster of a man had invaded his house.

"Of course," continued Merlin, I was not afraid. "Why would I be? We were in my own house with no witnesses and I knew that if necessary, I would not hesitate to use magic to protect myself or even kill him."

He frowned. "I see that you are looking surprised that murder was already on my mind.

But you see, the longer Daisy and Freddie lived with me, the more Daisy opened up about the life they had endured before they ran away and my lovely Daisy had told me her darkest secret. Freddie was indeed her brother for they shared the same father, but Freddie was also Daisy's son!"

Arthur's expression turned thunderous. "You mean he had…"

Merlin nodded. "Yes. As soon as their mother had died, the filthy beast began forcing himself on his daughter. She was just thirteen years old when she gave birth to Freddie."

Arthur noticed Merlin's knuckles going white as he gripped the bowl of his goblet and he could understand his friend's outrage and horror at what he had discovered.

"You understand, Arthur, I could NEVER have allowed this monster to go anywhere near Daisy or Freddie ever again."

He sighed. "So there were really only two alternatives, buy him off…..or kill him. And before you ask, there would have been no point in trying to bring charges against him for the way he had treated his children. Yes we had a police force by then, but it would have been impossible to prove anything and as her father, the law would have undoubtedly come down on his side. The society that protected children from abuse was not set up until 1889.

In any case Daisy' father was ostensibly a 'gentleman'. He was not you see, a criminal. He was an undertaker, on the face of it a respectable businessman.

So, I offered this filthy pig of a man a substantial amount of money and told him to take it and leave his children alone for ever.

He laughed in my face. "My Daisy was a virgin when she ran away," he sneered, "I'm sure she isn't anymore…not after you've had your way with her. You will pay me for that AND I will take my children home with me. And if you don't pay me, then I will take you before the magistrate. They are MY children and the law will not deny me!"

I tried to reason with him, but to no avail. In the end I told him to leave immediately and warned him that if he did not go voluntarily, he would not leave my house alive.

We were in the parlour by then, but he laughed in my face and started towards the door to the hallway in search of his offspring.

Before he could reach the handle, I slammed the door and locked it.' This naturally confused him, since I was still standing by the fireplace.

He attempted to force the door open and then turned back to me, swearing and vowing to 'fillet me like a haddock'.

From his walking stick he drew a rapier, which had been concealed within. He came at me, determined to kill me.

Arthur snorted. "What a fool, to think he could even wound you."

"I flung him back, before his blade came even close and he crashed to the floor. For a man as full of alcohol as he was, he was surprisingly quick. He was on his feet almost immediately and coming at me again. I flung him back again…harder. I was still trying not to kill him. But I wanted to frighten him and to harm him enough that he never dared to challenge me in the future.

Once more he came at me with his rapier and this time, I did not hold back. I hit him with the full force of my power. He was dead before he hit the floor.

So I was now a murderer. I had executed a man with no authority to do so and without any intention of ever letting him have recourse to the law. And I didn't care, Arthur. I felt good about it."

Merlin shook his head and took another drink.

"I was judge, jury and executioner and it was surely not for that, that I was born with such lethal power."

"I would have done the same in a heartbeat," admitted Arthur. "The man deserved to die. He brought a concealed weapon into your house and had you not stopped him, he would have murdered you and taken away your two helpless young friends. You were born to use your powers for the good of this land and that you have always done. You have nothing to reproach yourself for."

Merlin frowned. "Sometimes I wonder. You see I wasn't just trying to protect Daisy and Freddie, I was trying to make sure that they would never leave me. For I loved them so….both of them, but I was in love with Daisy. I had denied myself such feelings for decades, determined to live my life alone. But having Daisy in the house and seeing her every day, made it impossible for me not to grow to love her.

She had a beauty that would have eclipsed that of the fairy women of Avalon and she had the sweetest nature. She was so kind….utterly selfless and with every day that passed when she was under my roof I loved her more.

So I felt guilty. Had I really tried hard enough to reason with her father, or had I always intended to kill him so that I could keep Daisy for myself?"

Arthur was not sure how to answer. In his eyes, Merlin had no reason to reproach himself. It mattered not that Merlin had fallen in love with Daisy. Had he regarded her only as kind of daughter or even just a young friend, he still could not have allowed this evil man to take her back.

"You judge yourself too harshly, Merlin. You of all men deserved someone to love. Every time I think of the centuries you have lived without a companion, without someone to love, it just makes me feel sad. From the moment I knew that Gwen loved me, I was never really alone again…..even when I sent her away…..somewhere in my heart, I always knew she loved me."

Merlin's face brightened. "Then you really don't think I did wrong in killing this monster?"

"Absolutely not. You say that in those days the chances of her being delivered from this man by those who enforced the law were practically none. What else could you have done?"

Merlin nodded slowly. "I am glad you feel that way. Unfortunately, even if I did the right thing in ending his reign of terror, I was still left with a dead body in my parlour."

"No problem to you, Merlin…surely. I saw how you despatched, both the witch Nimue and Morgana. There was nothing left of either of them but dust."

"You are right of course, but unfortunately before I could incinerate the body, Daisy rushed into the room. I had been too long away from her and she had come downstairs to see what was keeping me. Hearing her father's voice, she had been listening outside the door, too afraid to confront him.

She ran to me, crying and I put my arms around her, trying to reassure her. She was safe she had no need to worry any more.

But it was not her own safety she was worried about. It was mine. She said she should never have stayed so long under my roof. She had always known that her father would eventually find her and Freddie and now because she had stayed with me, she had put me in danger. If someone should find out what had happened, I would most probably hang.

She did not know what I was or what powers I had and her only remedy to the terrible predicament we found ourselves in was to go to the constables and say that she herself had killed her father.

I protested that I would never allow such a thing and tried to tell her that I could dispose of the body with ease.

But she was frantic. How could I do such a thing? Did I not remember that old Mrs Frobisher, who lived in the house opposite, sat every day at her window till nearly midnight just watching the passers-by. She would certainly have seen our caller and would be waiting nosily to see if and when he departed. He had after all knocked hard and long enough to alert half the street. She was determined that there was no way we could dispose of one large and heavy corpse without being discovered.

I could not bear to see her so distraught, so I made a decision. I would entrust her with my secret. I would tell her who I really was.

As I tried to explain, I could see that she did not believe me. She must have thought that the act of murder had upset the balance of my mind and, far from calming her I was only making her more upset.

So there was nothing for it. I would have to dispose of the body in front of her. She would then have to believe that I was who and what I claimed to be.

She was astonished of course when she saw her biggest fear disappear and leave behind nothing but a scorch mark on the carpet.

I'm not sure if she was afraid of me in that moment, because she was as white as a sheet. Discovering that someone you have known for some time has magic can be…well you know how it can be."

Arthur was at once transported back to the moment when Merlin had finally revealed his powers. Arthur had been lying on cold, damp ground in terrible pain and Merlin stoking the camp fire, had created the vision of a dragon in the smoke. It had been magic of the most benign kind and yet still Arthur had recoiled in horror and disgust. Arthur was still ashamed at the way he had reacted. Instead of understanding why Merlin had concealed his true nature and being grateful that Merlin was there beside him when he himself was so badly wounded, he had rejected his friend and treated him as an enemy. Now he prayed that Merlin's young friend had not done the same.

"She was struck dumb for a moment," continued Merlin, "and stood staring at the mark on the carpet as if she could not believe what had just happened. I was worried then that she would fear me. But after a moment she smiled. All the pain and angst were wiped from her sweet face.

She told me that I was amazing, that she had always thought me special, that I had saved her life and Freddie's too. More than that…." here Merlin paused, his face changing again to a mixture of happiness and longing, "she told me that she loved me…that she had always loved me and that she could never bear it if she had to be parted from me. I think she was afraid that now I had revealed my true self to her, that I would leave her because she could not be trusted to keep my secret. But I did trust her. I knew that she would never betray me and I also knew that I could not bear to lose her. In the three years that she and Freddie had lived with me, she had blossomed into the most beautiful young woman you could ever imagine. That night I asked her to marry me and she accepted.

But of course, we still had work to do that night because of our nosey neighbour. With the help of magic, I transformed myself into something approximating Daisy's evil father, He had been wearing a wide brimmed hat, when he barged into the house and that and his walking stick had not been consumed. So, putting on a coat of the same colour and wearing his hat and carrying his cane, I left through the front door, calling out a loud and cheery goodbye. In the window opposite I could just make out our elderly neighbour, sitting in her customary seat by the window, her candle burning and her cat on her lap. I almost waved at her, but that would hardly have been appropriate, so instead I tapped my cane loudly on the pavement as I walked. Should anyone ask, I hoped she would not forget me and would confirm that our visitor had both arrived and left in one piece.

From our street, I walked down to the docks and went into several of the more downmarket drinking houses. I gave the impression of being very drunk, so that by the time I left the last public house, I was reeling.

I should explain that the Thames was tidal right up to the city of London and as I stumbled along the embankment the tide was on the turn and despite the cold, the river was flowing fast.

On one of the many bridges I clambered onto the railings and began to totter along as if showing off my skills. There were few people about, but two men coming across the bridge saw me and shouted a warning.

As if in a drunken glee, I shouted back and tossed my hat and cane into the air then stumbled and fell into the water.

My God, was it cold! It took my breath away and I went down like a stone. I can assure you a mortal man would have died from the cold alone. Me? Well I certainly felt the pain of the excruciating cold, but I was in no real danger.

I held my breath until I thought my lungs would burst and then surfaced some way away from the bridge. Fortunately, clouds had covered the moon by then and I was not seen by the men, looking anxiously for me in the river.

And so, the monster that was Daisy's abuser disappeared forever.

There were enquiries made, as I had feared there would be, because as I explained, Daisy's father was a businessman and he ran his business with the help of an associate. His partner came looking for him and asked many questions. For some reason no one ever came to our house so my elaborate pantomime to ensure that our nosey neighbour had seen me leave the house, had probably been unnecessary.

The two men who thought they had watched me fall to my death had retrieved both the hat and the cane and they were proof enough of an accidental death. It did not matter that no body was ever found. It was assumed that the body had washed out to sea as the tide retreated.

And so, Daisy was free, free of the fear and worry that had haunted her from the day I found her.

We were married two months later and so began the happiest period of my life since the day I watched you go to sleep in the cave.

We moved to a house in Cornwall near the sea and lived there for fifteen years. Freddie loved the seaside and when he was eighteen, he went to sea himself.

He was an excellent seaman and eventually became a captain. On one of his voyages he met a Portuguese lady in Lisbon and later she became his wife.

Although we missed him terribly, it was just as well that he lived apart from us, because as you well know, I have never aged. On those times when he and his wife made the journey to visit us, I was able to make myself appear older and before you ask, I did make much more of an effort than I did in the old days, in Camelot. Daisy used to say that I looked very distinguished with my grey hair and whiskers. You probably also remember that it is very difficult to maintain an aging spell for any length of time…..although as time went on, I did get much better at it. But I could never find a way to make it permanent and so as Daisy grew older, we retired from public life so that the apparent disparity in our ages would not cause comment.

I was always afraid that she would grow bored by our lack of society, but she promised me that she was never happier than when it was just the two of us.

She lived until she was 102 years old."

At this point tears came into Merlin's eyes and he blinked rapidly, rubbing his hand determinedly over his face.

"She always promised me she would live as long as possible because she could not bear the thought of me being alone."

Merlin smiled, sadly "And she did. She hung on as long as she could, but in the end even her determination could not prevent her death.

We lived in a cottage then, not far from here and she is buried in the local churchyard. I was going to walk up there before I go to bed. It is something I always do on Christmas Eve. I leave her a bunch of Mistletoe and Holly for it reminds me of the first time I ever kissed her."

As he finished his story, Merlin turned his face to the fire and Arthur reached over and squeezed his shoulder.

"May I walk with you, tonight?" he asked.

"I should like that. I should like that very much."

As they stepped out into the darkness, the snow had stopped and the moon shone out between the clouds. The lying snow reflected its light and it was easy for the two men to see their way, as they set off towards the medieval church.

As they walked, all was quiet. An owl hooted softly and its ghostly presence whispered through the trees, but everything else was still. It was as if the land was holding its breath, waiting for Christmas Day.

"At one time people would have come here for Midnight Mass," Merlin explained, "but these days, the church has a service only once a month and on Christmas Day and Easter Sunday. Tonight, there will likely be no-one in the churchyard but us. The vicar who serves this church has two others to care for and it is at one of his other churches that the Midnight Mass will be held."

"Does the new religion no longer hold sway in this land?" asked Arthur.

"Not so much. By and large, this is a secular land and I believe all the better for it. It is differences in belief that have caused most of the suffering in the world and they are at the heart of the crisis we are now facing."

Arthur, who had watched Merlin's history film with a mixture of interest and it had to be said, a degree of horror, could well understand Merlin's views on religion. So many had died for religious beliefs and nothing had been resolved. The battles raged on, getting ever more vicious and lethal. But it was something Arthur needed to understand if he were ever to stop the cycle of ignorance, prejudice and pain that seemed to dominate the modern world. In his mind's eye he saw the carnage left by a suicide bomber and compared that to the dead druids hanging in the trees outside Camelot in his father's reign. Times were different and yet horribly still the same.

They walked on in silence, Arthur enjoying the crunch of his boots in the crisp white snow. Merlin had described the socks that he was wearing as 'thermal' and combined with the shiny boots, called 'Wellingtons' or 'Wellies' by Ralph, they were keeping his feet wonderfully warm and dry. Oh, to have had such things in Camelot!

Finally, they were opening a creaky lytch gate and entering the churchyard.

Here there were signs that others had made their own Christmas Eve pilgrimages to the graves of their loved ones. Snow had been swept from headstones and wintery bunches of foliage and flowers placed on the graves.

Merlin led the way up a slope past the church.

"Her grave is in the highest point of the church yard. It has a view."

He smiled. "Not that she needs one. She looks down on me from the stars, for it is from the stars we came and to the stars we will all eventually go. Here we are."

Merlin brushed the snow from a granite headstone and Arthur stooped to read the words carved into the stone.

They were very simple.

"For Daisy, Loved forever" The words were encircled by a carved ring of flowers.

"Do you have a picture of her?" asked Arthur as Merlin laid his bunch of Holly and mistletoe.

Merlin nodded. "Yes I have a miniature portrait of her, painted when she was a young woman and a photograph of her when she was in her fifties. I will show you when we return."

They stood for a little while looking down at the winter bouquet. The glossy leaves and red berries of the holly stood out against the whiteness of the snow. Although this was in many ways a sad pilgrimage, there was something bright and optimistic about the foliage.

"I really admire you, you know," said Arthur as they walked out of the churchyard. "Every time I try and imagine living for a thousand years, I go cold." He laughed, "quite appropriate for this weather! But seriously, I don't know how you have managed to do it." He looked thoughtful, "But it does make me understand how important it is that I don't let you down. I cannot allow all your sacrifices to be for nothing."

"You won't. Come on let's get back to the house. The clouds are covering the moon again. There is more snow on the way."

Christmas Day

Snow had in fact begun to fall steadily as Merlin and Arthur had walked back from the graveyard on Christmas Eve and as dawn broke on Christmas day, the world was white as far as the eye could see.

Inside the house it as warm and cosy and the kitchen was full of happy chatter as breakfast was served. No one had got up early and so it was already gone 11 o'clock by the time everything was cleared away.

Percival donned his new Wellington boots and accompanied Ralph and Lancelot to the stables to feed the horses and then the chickens. Percival really was delighted with his horse and the two of them had quickly bonded.

Having been taken into town by Merlin, Percival was familiar with the roads around Merlin's property and so with Merlin's permission Percival, Lancelot and Melora were determined to have a long ride before the promised feast of Christmas Dinner.

At Leon's suggestion the rest of the knights and Arthur's sons had decided to practice their skills in the tithe barn that was part of Merlin's estate.

A target was set up at one end of the huge space for an archery competition and various other tests of skill were included in their impromptu indoor tournament. With Lancelot out of the way, Gawaine had his sights on the prize, a bottle of Merlin's special Port wine. Ralph although not expecting to win anything, had been allowed to join in the competition and had proved to be quite skilled at archery. At least he was hitting the target…if not the bull's-eye!

Inside the house, Gwen was helping Holly with the food preparation. Gwen was amazed by all the modern gadgets and imagined how much easier her job as one of Camelot's servants would have been if she had had even one of the modern appliances in Merlin's house. Her favourite by far was the dishwasher. Having watched Merlin's film she did wonder about the wisdom of using a machine which used electricity (something she admitted she didn't really understand) to do something that could just as easily be done by hand. However, Merlin had assured her that all his electricity was produced from solar panels and by the power of the river which flowed downhill through his estate.

By three o'clock the tournament was over and Arthur had won. Gawaine insisted that it was 'only by a whisker' and Arthur laughingly agreed.

By the time everyone had changed into fresh clothes for the meal, delicious smells were coming from the kitchen and the large table in the formal dining room had been laid and candles lit. Apart from the candles the only light came from the fairy lights on the tree and the whole room looked magical. Under the tree were many packages, all wrapped in brightly coloured paper and ribbons.

As Merlin began to carve the turkey he declared that only after Christmas dinner had been eaten would they open the presents. Gawaine had declared this a totally unreasonable tradition and had shaken and examined his parcel in detail.

"I can only imagine that it must be a very small weapon," he surmised.

"Probably socks," suggested Leon. "The more pairs you have, the more you can wash them and the rest of us won't have to suffer your smelly feet."

Gawaine tossed a cracker at him. "My feet do not smell…except very occasionally…..when I am engaged on a quest or involved in battle or something, when I have to wear the same pair for a week."

Crackers were tossed back in his direction.

Turkey was a novelty to everyone as were Brussels sprouts, which were not to everyone's taste. But there were roast potatoes, roast parsnips, peas and carrots, so no-one went hungry.

When the time came, Merlin soaked the three Christmas puddings in brandy and then held a match under a large silver spoon filled with the golden liquor. When it was warm enough Merlin set light to the brandy and poured it over the puddings illuminating the table with glorious blue light.

Then out came the dessert wine and finally a huge board of cheese and biscuits.

It was a feast that had lived up to its billing and as they tasted the various different cheeses everyone thanked Merlin for providing them all with such a delicious meal.

Gawaine jumped to his feet.

"Presents now you said, Merlin. Shall I do the honours and hand them round?"

Merlin grinned. "Go ahead. I promise you it's not socks, but it is something useful"

Everyone had seen mobile phones on the Merlin's film and it was a novelty to everyone to actually own one. Holly and Ralph had charged all the phones in advance and put in all the sim cards and relevant mobile numbers.

Having tried calling each other however, by far the most popular thing about the phones was their ability to take photos and videos.

Gawain was even more delighted when he found that he could take photos of himself.

"Do you know," he said cheerfully, "I think that my thousand year sleep has made me even more handsome than I was before!"

Gwen nodded. "I think we can all agree that your long sleep has not changed you in any way at all."

"Well, how can you improve on perfection?"

In the days that followed, Merlin spent many hours teaching the knights everything they needed to know to fit in with the modern world. They had to feel confident that they could deal with everything that might be thrown at them.

Ralph gave driving lessons while, Merlin and Holly, gave lessons in computing. Everyone studied hard, anxious to be ready for New Year's Day, when Merlin was planning to reveal them to the world.

But as that day drew ever nearer, all were nervous. In the cocoon that was Merlin's sprawling estate, they could relax. They could get used to all the novelties of this new century, without having to interact with others for whom everything the newcomers had leaned, was second nature.

Merlin had provided them with horses but Leon in particular was beginning to question the wisdom of this. Horses seemed to be a mode of transport confined to history. Similarly, their weapons appeared to be totally out of date.

Thus, on the 28th December, Leon went to find Merlin in his study.

"You are worried about something," Merlin said. It was a statement rather than a question.

Leon frowned He was worried about a great many things and he was even more worried about questioning Merlin's plans. Nevertheless, he felt his concerns needed to be addressed.

"It's the weapons, Merlin," he began hesitantly. "We have swords and bows but no guns. How can we keep order without them?"

"You are right to bring this up, Leon and tomorrow, Ralph and I will teach you how to use guns. However, it is important that you do not lose your old skills. The future is so uncertain. You need to be master of everything. As to the horses, it is quite possible that energy supplies will be severely disrupted and if that is the case, electric cars or even those which still run on petrol, will be completely useless. Having a strong horse at your disposal may make all the difference.

You and your companions are the finest knights to have ever walked the corridors of Camelot You all learn quickly. By New Year's Day, you will have the skills you need."

Leon thanked Merlin for his reassurance and in private chided himself for questioning the sorcerer. Merlin had been one of the constants in Leon's adult life and without him, his king and his friends would all be nothing but dust, blowing in the wind.

Far away in the darkness of an Arctic winter, something stirred in a cave of ice.

At first it was difficult to discern the shape and size of the creature for it was the colour of its surroundings and it was only when it stretched out its gigantic wings that its scales begin to shimmer slightly in the icy gloom.

It was Aithusa, the white dragon.

Scattered around her feet were the bones of her prey, bears, walruses and whales. Nothing was too big or strong to be prey for the huge dragon although she ate rarely.

As her claws scrabbled across the ice, crushing the bones, Aithusa put her head on one side, listening to the sounds of the Arctic wind.

Her master was calling. Time to leave her sanctuary and head south into the world of men.

She howled and from her mouth came a stream of fire. Ice crashed around her and she spread her wings.

Outside her crumbling cave, the wind was gale force, whipping up the snow and ice into a million glass like shards. But the dragon did not feel them. Her skin was so thick, it was as if her flanks were plated with steel. She was also impervious to the sub-zero temperatures for she was lit from within.

Quickly she climbed, up and up, through the clouds until eventually she was high enough to see the distant rays of the sun.

Her reptilian eyes narrowed and her scales sparkled. She flew on towards the light.

Far away Merlin heard Aithusa's cry. The dragon was coming. It was time to get ready to reveal Arthur to his people.

He suppressed a shiver. He had not seen the dragon for centuries and even then, she had been terrifyingly huge. But still, he reminded himself, she had come to his call and obeyed his instructions. He was after all a Dragon Lord and no dragon could ignore him.

Outside, it was snowing again. In places the snow was three or four feet deep. In towns across the country everyone was marvelling at this continued icy weather. At first the picturesque views had been a novelty and totally appropriate for the season. Now however, everyone just wanted the snow to stop. The elderly were virtual prisoners in their own homes and the spiralling cost of heating homes was worrying everyone. Many could not afford the huge bills that they knew would come in the spring but, turning the heating off was not a choice.

Many people had taken an extended Christmas holiday or were working from home. Snow ploughs were out every day, but trains and buses were disrupted and for many it was easier not to attempt the journey into work at all. Those who had no choice battled in, often arriving late and in the capital city hotels were full as commuters tried to avoid the tedious journey to and from their homes in the suburbs.

Thus, as New Year's Eve dawned, preparations for the traditional celebrations were somewhat muted. Hotels and restaurants were running low on foodstuffs and sourcing fresh produce was becoming increasingly difficult.

At number 10 Downing Street the cabinet had spent hours discussing how to manage their dwindling resources and whether or not the annual fire work display on the River Thames should be cancelled.

In the end it was decided that as everything for the display was already in place it should go ahead. It would it was thought, be good for moral and help quell the rising tide of panic caused by the bad weather and the news from the European mainland.

Normally as midnight grew close the streets of the capital would be thronging with revellers, well insulated against any adverse weather conditions by copious amounts of alcohol.

On this particular New Year's Eve however, the number of people on the streets was substantially reduced. In fact the crowds were made up almost entirely by those who could walk home after the firework display.

Little did the New Year's Eve revellers know, that several nights before there had been more remarkable things in the sky than fireworks.

As Aithusa had flown over the lands of the north, she had been looking for something and as dawn broke, she saw it, a large boulder, thickly coated with a layer of ice.

Down she swooped with the speed of an eagle, her claws reaching for and seizing the rock. Then as if the boulder weighed nothing at all, she tore it from the ground and continued on her journey.

Constantly, she scanned the sky ahead of her. Now men could fly and she did not need to collide with one of their huge winged tubes. They would not see her for her scales deceived the eyes of mortal creatures. To them, she was no more than clouds or rain and snow.

With her burden grasped firmly in her claws she climbed until the sky became dark. No mortal could breathe in this thin cold air but for Aithusa it made absolutely no difference. It only allowed her to fly faster.

When the time came to descend, she shot through the thick snow, laden clouds like a bullet, down towards a shoreline on the northeast coast. The beach was long and at a headland on one end sat the brooding presence of Bamburgh Castle. For miles she had followed the silvery line of the surf and now she descended towards the icy spray of the rolling waves.

Near the water's edge she dropped her burden. Snow and frozen sand spattered out under the weight of the great stone and Aithusa once more rose into the sky.

Then, from the darkness of the empty beach came a figure. It was Merlin.

Dressed in a light-coloured coat, like the dragon, he too blended into the surroundings. In his hand he carried a long package wrapped in white paper.

As he approached the stone, he ripped the paper from the package to reveal a gleaming weapon. It was Excalibur, Arthur's magical sword.

Merlin muttered a string of words and with seemingly no effort at all, climbed onto the giant boulder and thrust the blade into the stone. A good two feet of the sword stuck out of the stone into the air and it quivered slightly.

Without any hand to carve them, words appeared beneath the weapon.

'Whosoever pulls this sword from this stone, is the true king of this land'

The words glowed with a blue light that gradually faded.

Merlin nodded, as if pleased with his work. Then he climbed down and hurried towards the dunes. As the snow began to fall again, his footsteps disappeared and in minutes there was no trace of him at all.

Danger

Arthur wandered through the house aimlessly. He had been looking for Merlin, but Merlin it seemed had slipped away…..to do something important, Ralph said.

Arthur had been disappointed by this news because he had many things he wished to discuss with his friend.

For Merlin's sake and for the sake of his family and his knights, Arthur had put on his bravest face and to all intents and purposes, he appeared totally un-phased by everything that had happened. But in reality, that was far from the truth.

The world into which he had been thrown was so different from the world he had known, that he felt as if he had returned to another planet. Nothing was familiar. Nothing was simple. Everything was different, complicated and quite frankly bizarre.

Over and over he told himself that no man could possibly complain at having his youth returned. Every day he could jump out of bed without the cracking of his joints or the stiffness that had been a constant in his later years. In fact, since waking from his enchanted sleep, he had never felt so fit and alive.

His wife, although always youthful looking despite the passing years, was now so beautiful and glowing that every time he looked at her, he felt himself falling in love with her all over again.

But the magic of Avalon did not discriminate. Everyone who had been brought to the cave had been restored to their prime. Thus, his two sons and his daughter looked almost the same age as himself and Gwen. How would anyone believe that they really were his children?

If he to actually become king of Albion again, how would he convince his subjects that Bohart and Merri and Melora were of royal blood. Maybe it was of no importance, but it bothered him. It was a complication that seemed difficult to explain away and if men thought him a liar then why would they want to accept him as their leader?

Then there was the real chance that the people, (who Merlin insisted were Arthur's true subjects) might not want to owe allegiance to any self-styled monarch. In this strange modern world, where everything was 'fake news" and nothing could be taken at face value, why would anyone believe he really was the mythical King Arthur? And even if they did, it had been centuries since a king had actually led his men on the battle field or indeed made any real decisions on the day to day running of the country. The modern monarch was nothing more than a figure head…someone to give out prizes and honours and stand about looking 'royal'. To try and present himself as a 'king' in the old sense of the word and expect modern men to 'bend a knee' to him, was surely a ridiculous idea.

True, Arthur had undertaken duties similar to the modern monarchs, judging competitions, giving out prizes and bestowing knighthoods, but his primary function had been as the leader of his armies. He had not jousted and practiced his sword craft just to make speeches and drift about in silks and satins looking regal. He had been a warrior, a man who could hold his own on the battlefield and most importantly he had been the man who made the decisions about the futures of his citizens. He had been a 'king', not a 'peacock' to whom deference was expected merely because of his royal heritage.

Arthur had thought only momentarily about discussing his fears with Gwen or indeed any of his family. Deep down he felt sure that they would be as unsettled as he was by their current situation. But he also knew that they would be relying on him to make sense of their current predicament and lead them forward and to re-establish their position.

He suspected that of all his knights, only Lancelot would be totally accepting of everything that had happened.

It had taken years for Arthur to understand the reason Lancelot had come into his life and indeed years for Lancelot to understand it too.

Lancelot had always thought his origins humble. Only the murder of his family had led him to discover his true calling…to be one of the greatest warriors Albion would ever know and eventually to discover his true identity.

The woman he had thought was his mother, had been only the woman who had found him as a baby on the doorstep of his father's house and taking pity on him brought him inside to raise as her own.

His father's earlier love and Lancelot's true mother had been the Lady of the Lake, the ruler of Avalon, one of the immortals, born out of fire, as the blue planet cooled.

To save Arthur's life, Lancelot had walked through the 'Veil' into the world of the dead. This terrible place was home to the spirits who, for whatever reason, had died in circumstances that kept them tied to the earth. These spirits could not drift away into the stars to find the loved ones who had gone before them. Instead they hovered forever close to the earth, watching the world of the living, reaching out but unable to really touch anyone. Among these desperate souls were murderers and some of their victims, some who had taken their own lives, some who had been wronged by a lover, or some who had been horribly deceived. And all were full of rage or resentment or unending grief.

Fortunately for Lancelot, with the blood of his immortal mother coursing through his veins the ruler of this terrible world, The Cailleach, could not keep him forever.

So eventually, with the intervention of Merlin, Lancelot had regained his mortal form and once more saved the life of his king. But in saving Arthur, Lancelot had sustained a terrible wound and a horrified Merlin, thinking himself unable to save Lancelot's life, had put him in the boat which carried him to Avalon.

In Avalon, he found a new home and eventually, when Merlin sent Arthur's only daughter to the island in hope of a cure for her paralysis after a riding accident, Lancelot found his true love.

In Avalon no-one ever aged and so Arthur knew that his finest knight and his beloved daughter must be totally at ease with their current situation. Unfortunately, Arthur also knew that Lancelot had always considered Arthur his superior. Lancelot lived to serve him. How then could Arthur ask Lancelot how to deal with his restored youth? Lancelot would be looking to Arthur for leadership.

So, the only person Arthur COULD talk to was Merlin. But Merlin had suffered so much to bring about Arthur's resurrection. To question him or complain about his current circumstances would surely disappoint and dismay him.

Confused and worried, Arthur wandered into the small room at the back of the house, where all the boots and coats were kept. Through the window, he could see that it had stopped snowing. Perhaps a walk would clear his mind and give him time to have a good long think about how he should proceed.

He scowled. If he wandered off without telling anyone, Merlin would be worried. So, reluctantly, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and with one finger tapped out a message to his friend.

"Just gone for a walk. Will not be long"

As he pressed 'send' he also forwarded the message to Gwen, who he knew was watching the television with Melora. He did not want to go and tell them in person in case one or both insisted on coming with him. He needed to be alone.

He stared at the small screen for a few seconds but saw no answering text. So, he tugged on his boots and a warm jacket and let himself out into the cold night air.

His breath, immediately misted in front of his face. Almost, he thought, as if he was smoking….a weird habit that he had seen on Merlin's history film.

"Mad!" he muttered to himself.

As he paused outside the back door, Arthur looked up at the sky. Clouds covered many of the stars and the moon, so it was very dark. He waited for his eyes become accustomed to the lack of light and then strode out through the snow.

As he walked, he went over and over in his head all the things that were worrying him but try as he might he could find no resolution to any of them.

Without thinking, Arthur had followed the same path he had taken with Merlin on Christmas Eve and now ahead he saw the looming shape of the church tower.

He would walk up to the grave of Merlin's beloved wife he decided and then go back to the house.

Even if he was not finding all the answers he sort the night air was invigorating and giving him at least some sense of clarity. He could do no more than his best and for Merlin he would never do anything less.

Since he had disappeared from the world into the enchanted cave, the world had gone through many changes. But what had not changed was the nature of mankind. Modern man was as full of aggression and jealousy as those Arthur had encountered when the great castle of Camelot was the centre of government and justice.

Despite having so much more of everything, the people of this century just wanted more and more. And the more they took from the world, the more they threw away and slowly the world was dying.

It was for this that he had been brought back. He could not allow the world and all its fragile beauty to be destroyed by men. This was his true purpose.

Nothing else was important and if the people would accept a resurrected mythical king as their new leader then they would surely accept all the other strange things that came with him.

He punched once gloved fist into the other, suddenly feeling more resolute and focused than he had done in days. It was time to step up again and put into practice all the things he had learnt in his first life. He was a King. He was a leader of men and it was time to do what he was born to do.

As he walked back down through the snowy churchyard, he saw a figure standing by the gate.

The figure looked female to him, although stout, shapeless and short necked. Nevertheless, Arthur felt all the hairs on the back of his neck stand to attention. He shivered, wondering what on earth there was to be alarmed about. He eyed the figure warily.

Definitely female and surely old and as far as he could determine, not armed in any way.

So why was he feeling so apprehensive? His fingers flexed, searching for a sword or a dagger, but he carried neither. He was unarmed and totally alone.

Again, he asked himself what there was to be afraid of. The woman was short, fat and old. Were he to stand beside her, he would tower over her and yet…

Every bone in his body told him to be on his guard and if there was one thing he had learnt from his first life, it was to listen to his instincts.

He glanced quickly round the snowy churchyard. She has no accomplices that he could see and the whole place was eerily silent. So, if she was alone what on earth was there to be concerned about? True, Merlin had been very insistent about keeping Arthur's return to the world a secret. Nevertheless, he had allowed all the Pendragons and the knights to walk amongst the crowds in the nearby town, so surely Arthur being seen by this one lone woman would be of no consequence at all. He was dressed in modern clothes and wearing a cap which covered his hair and shadowed his face. To all intents and purposes, he was just an ordinary citizen taking an evening walk.

He squared his shoulders and headed towards the gate. But before he could open it, he felt his mobile phone buzzing in his pocket. The unfamiliar feeling stopped him in his tracks.

He took it out. There was a text message from Merlin. Clumsily with his gloved fingers he tried to press the right buttons to access the whole message. Then he remembered, swore under his breath and using his teeth, ripped off one glove.

His eyes scanned the glowing text. The form of the letters was unfamiliar to him, but he could read the message. 'I am coming to get you. I am only minutes away. Say no more to the woman than you have to. She is not what she seems. Your phone will ring in just a minute. It will be me. Your name is Frank and your wife is Doris. Just try and make the appropriate answers to whatever I say. Do not under any circumstances use my real name."

Arthur returned the phone to his pocket. His instincts had been correct. A crawling feeling went down his spine, like ice melting against his body. He took a deep breath. If he refused to acknowledge his unease, he could just say 'Good evening' and walk straight past. If nothing else, he judged he could safely out-run her if need be.

The woman was standing right under the porch of the lytch gate and since it was snowing again, she could reasonably be standing there for shelter.

He reached out as if to lift the latch of the wooden gate.

"Excuse me, M…"

He had been about to say the word 'madam' but just in time realised this was not really a particularly common form of address in this century.

He coughed and moved towards the gate post so that he could squeeze past.

The woman looked up at him, her face illuminated by the dim electric light situated at the apex of the porch.

It was not a pretty sight. She wore no hat although her lumpy body was wrapped in a heavy coat. A thick scarf made her neck seem almost non-existent and partly covered her chin.

Her skin was a nasty yellow colour, with more wrinkles than Arthur thought it was possible to have on one face. When she spoke, Arthur stepped back. Her stinking breath cut through the freezing air like a knife.

"You're not from round here are you?"

Her voice was like something scraping across a gravel path.

"No, I'm staying with a friend for a few days."

"And what brings you to a cemetery at this time of day and in such terrible weather?"

She had moved imperceptibly and completely now blocked his path. Arthur answered in a tone that he hoped made it abundantly clear that it was none of her business and he had somewhere else to be.

"I like churchyards. Lots of history."

"Your history perhaps?"

Her rancid breath was making Arthur feel nauseous. He longed to shove her aside so that he could get past, but manners would not permit it. In any case what little information Merlin had passed to him, made it obvious he should not antagonise this woman in any way.

So, he answered her, though his tone did not imply that he wished a long conversation.

"Why would you think that? I just like history. Please don't think me rude, but I do not want to stand around talking when it is so cold."

At that moment Arthur's phone rang. With a huge feeling of relief, he turned his back and answered.

"Don't dare use my name! Say hello Michael and then tell me where you are as if I have no idea. I am coming through the field you can see to your left Just keep talking as I approach. You can see me, can't you?"

Thinking quickly, Arthur began a conversation with 'Michael' and somehow managed to squeeze past the woman, only lightly brushing against her thick coat.

"Yes, just out for a breath of fresh air. I came up to the church. It's quite interesting isn't it? You're walking down to meet me? Oh yes I see you."

Arthur waved to Merlin and continued up the path back towards the house. Merlin climbed over a style and fell in step beside him.

"Keep going," he muttered, "But don't walk too fast. I'll explain as soon as we are well out of earshot."

For a little while longer Merlin chatted about wishing 'Frank" had said he was going out for a walk and it was not until they were almost at Merlin's backdoor that Merlin felt able to talk openly.

"That woman is a witch," he declared. By all the gods, past and the present, Arthur, what were you thinking? Anything could have happened to you. You should never go anywhere without me. There is danger everywhere!"

"But magic doesn't exist in this century," protested Arthur. "I saw it in your history film. All the so-called magicians are just pretending. It's all misdirection or sleight of hand. Surely there are no witches left."

Merlin opened the back door and ushered Arthur inside.

"Yes yes", he slammed the door and double bolted it, "mostly magicians use no real sorcery at all. But there is still magic in the world, lurking beneath the surface. I exist, don't I? And there are others like me. For many my existence is just a story they have been told, something they doubt is true, but is part of their heritage…for sorcery as you know tends to run in families. Many of these sorcerers are good people who use their powers quietly for their own benefit and the benefit of others less fortunate than themselves. They never exhibit their powers in plain sight. But there are others, some with great power, who would use their magic as Morgana used hers. They turn to the dark side of magic, blood sacrifices, deception and thievery. Anything in fact that will give them more power in this world. They too know the legends and some of them have been searching for me for centuries.

For them chaos is the route to power. They want to see humanity plumb the depths of depravity for when there seems no hope then they can offer a way out of the chaos….for a price of course. You and I are an obstacle to their plans and so they search endlessly for some clue to your whereabouts. It is for this reason I have kept so much in the shadows."

"So, is that foul smelling woman tracking you? Does she know who you are? Does she know who I am?"

Merlin sucked in a breath.

"I don't think so, but she is suspicious of everything. She moved back into a house not far from here a short while ago. When I say moved 'back', she actually lived in the same house more than a hundred years ago."

Arthur's eyebrows raised in disbelief.

"People live that long in this century?" her asked.

"Witches do…although even for them, it is hard. You said she smelled foul. Trust me she is rotting form within. She is almost like a walking corpse."

Arthur shuddered. "I knew there was something wrong the moment I saw her. I wouldn't admit it to anyone but you, but I was actually scared. It was like when the Dorocha terrorised Camelot. There was something creepy about her, something that made me think even though she was alone, she was a real threat. Thank the gods you came along when you did."

Merlin drew him into the corridor and towards his study.

"I have something to show you," he said.

Once inside the study, Merlin shut the door firmly behind him and went over to a heavy oak cabinet. Inside on the shelves Arthur could see many papers and leather-bound books. Merlin seemed to reach 'through' them and when his arm reappeared again he was holding a heavy volume. Its leather binding was scruffy and scratched and Merlin needed both hands to heft it on to his desk.

As he opened the cover dust particles sparkled in the candlelight. Leaning over, Arthur could see that this was no ordinary book. Rather it was a collection of papers, newspaper cuttings and photographs. Some were stuck onto card, some of the papers were clearly medieval, some were parchment, while other papers and photographs were more recent and slid into plastic covers. It was a strange mixture of the ancient and modern.

"You got a good look at her face, I presume?" asked Merlin, as he pulled out what looked to be a very early photograph and set it on the desk.

Arthur gave an involuntary shudder. "It was unavoidable, I'm afraid. She was completely blocking my path."

"Well, take a look at this!"

Merlin pointed to the photograph. In places it was a little faded, but it showed quite clearly a group of men and women all posed in the formal style of the late nineteenth century. The photograph was clearly well over a hundred years old and no-one in it was smiling.

Arthur stared at the faces and then pointed to a figure towards the back of the group.

"That's her…isn't it and she looks just as old and ugly as she did this evening."

Merlin nodded grimly "And here's another."

Merlin drew a small oil painting from the book. It looked as if it had been cut from a frame and fragments of paint had flaked away. However, the centre of the picture was undamaged. It showed a young, seated woman, holding a small black book in her hand.

"That's a 'grimoire' she's holding," Merlin told Arthur, "a book of spells, dark magic that does nothing but harm. The painting has was done in 1837 and it was about that time that I first became aware of her."

"Who is she?" asked Arthur, "or more to the point, WHAT is she? Is she like you? Is she immortal?"

Merlin frowned, "I rather hope I am NOT immortal," he said. "Everlasting life may seem desirable, but unless those you love are the same…." His eyes clouded for a moment, but he continued, "This woman's name is Elizabeth Gilbert. Magic had existed in her family for generations, but she was the first to use her powers for really nasty things. She enjoyed hurting people and she was responsible for the deaths of at least six people…those are the ones I am certain of, but I suspect many more died at her hand.

The longer she has lived the more powerful she has become and it is magic that allows her to continue to walk the earth decades after she should have died. For countless years she has been searching for me and more importantly for you and your knights.

She believes that I know the location of the Cup of Life and of course I do. She believes that if she could possess it, she would secure her hold on life forever and it would give her the power to destroy us both. You see she does not want to see your return to the world. She wants only chaos and fear for it is in that atmosphere she will be able to gain the power she craves."

"But she didn't recognise me…did she?"

"I cannot believe that she did, for otherwise, I feel sure that she would have attacked you with magic.

She has lived in the house in the valley to the north of my estate for the last three years and I have attended the séances she holds there in various disguises. I would have known if she suspected anything….but you…..you are a stranger here and I suspect that those with powers close to mine can sense that there is something different about you. You look….I'm not really sure how to describe it, but you just look…..er….. different."

Arthur could not pretend that he did not know to what Merlin was referring. "I look…other….other worldly…..is that the right expression? And it's the same for all of us isn't it?"

"It's the magic of Avalon," said Merlin. "Everything on Avalon is faultless, perfect and you have slept surrounded by Avalon's magic for centuries." Merlin shrugged and gave a rueful grin.

"Although I hate to admit it, you really are um…. er ….. quite striking."

Arthur grinned back, the tension of his encounter with the witch suddenly dissipating.

"I always was though, wasn't I?" he said cockily.

"You were certainly very pleased with yourself when first we met." confirmed Merlin, "a stuck up, very pleased with himself pain in the arse!"

Arthur grimaced. "Gods! That bad eh?" Then he grinned again, "I was pretty awful, wasn't I? When I look back on those days, I am surprised that you didn't use your magic to make my life really difficult. I know I would have done! Actually, now I come to think about it, if I'd had magic…"

"You would have created havoc! It was Gaius who told me not to use magic in Camelot and rather reluctantly I had to admit he was right. If I had continued to use magic as I had when I was a boy, I would almost certainly have ended up in one of your father's dungeons."

"You'd have escaped though, wouldn't you?" Arthur waved his hands in the air in a beckoning motion "Jailor's keys somehow drifting through the air into your sweaty palm, you calmly unlocking the door, then changing yourself into er…..an old lady…..you always did look good in a dress"

"Yes and what would an old lady have been doing in the dungeons? Thank God I didn't have to rely on you to know what to do in a crisis! I probably would have escaped but more importantly I would have lost my place at Camelot and that wouldn't have been good for you, would it?"

Arthur held out his hands. "Come on! I like to think that I could have looked after myself, but probably…..if I'm being really honest… I'd probably have been lucky to see my eighteenth birthday. On top of that I wouldn't have had anyone to tell all my secrets to." His smile grew wider. "It was really nice to be able to tell you all the things I couldn't tell anyone else."

"Yes and then threaten me with a fate worse than death if I revealed them. I'll have you know that burdened with all your secrets, I lived in a constant state of fear."

Arthur punched him on the arm, "No you didn't! You knew I was only joking."

Merlin rubbed his arm and shook his head. Arthur may have returned to him with a strange luminosity that somehow marked him out from mortal men, but at heart he was the same 'Arthur' Merlin had always known. Despite being schooled by a battle- scarred father who had never got over the loss of his wife and trained never ever to show emotion or weakness, Arthur was at heart a kind and honest soul who had always yearned for a sibling. He had eventually allowed Merlin to take on that role and it had changed both their lives. A thousand years Merlin had felt the loss of that brotherly friendship, practically every day and yet now it was restored to him, it was a friendship unchanged in any way at all. Thus, even after the alarm caused by Arthur's earlier encounter with evil, Merlin felt glad to be alive.

All was well and the plans that he had made, to reveal Arthur to a disbelieving public, could still go ahead. It was worth a celebration.

He delved into a deep draw in his desk and pulled out a bottle of malt whisky. Time for a drink and a chat about his plans.

But Arthur was not finished with his questions about the witch.

"If you knew she was a witch when she moved here, why didn't you move away? You say you have many other houses so why stay close to something dangerous?"

"That's a hard question to answer. There is always something to be said for keeping your enemies 'close'. I mean what better way is there of knowing what they are up to? But I suppose if I am absolutely honest, I continued to live here because of Daisy. The cottage we lived in burnt down not long after she had died. It is fortunate that I had already moved on, otherwise I would have lost every picture and every item that either belonged to her or brought back memories of our life together. For a long while I could not bear to return.

I thought it was better to forget and move on. So many years had passed since you went to sleep and I could see no end to the years of waiting for you to wake." He looked away, "Eventually after a particularly dark period in my life, I knew that I would never forget, so when I saw that this house was up for sale, I bought it.

I found that my memories comforted me rather than upset me and I have grown very fond of this place."

"I can see why. It is a very fine house."

"It is and it is close to the one of the tunnels that leads to the cave in which you slept. I could of course access the cave from many other places, but this one was particularly convenient and maybe it was more than memories that brought me back to this area. Maybe it was all part of the plan.

"But the witch! You say she is dangerous. Wouldn't it be safer for us to go someplace else….to one of your other houses perhaps? At least until I reveal myself to everyone."

Merlin appeared to consider this for a moment.

"She is powerful. That is true, but alone she is no match for me. She also has no suspicions about me at all otherwise she would have called others of her kind to her side. The people who attend her séances are mostly just normal people who are interested in the occult. I would say more than ninety percent of the people in this land think such things are utter nonsense. I believe she tries to influence the inquisitive souls who come to her house, but if she was hoping to gather round her a group of acolytes, I can see no evidence that she has been particularly successful.

She has allies of course, others like herself…indeed some who are even older than she and were they to gather here in one place, then I would have my work cut out for me. But I believe that all of you have been touched by the deepest magic and you will not be easy to subdue.

All things considered I feel it is best to be able to keep a close eye on enemies and I can do that very well from this house and as I say, if she had any idea who I really was I believe she would have tried to finish me off long ago. Without me, you could not have awoken. Without me, dark magic would have run free in this land from the day you ceased to walk the earth. Morgana may have been the face of that magic in our time in Camelot, but it has, and has had many, many faces both before and after I killed her."

"But if you think the witch has no knowledge of who you really are, why did she find me in the churchyard?"

"Pure chance I would guess."

"So why did she question me? Why did she block my path?"

"I think you were just unlucky. I imagine she doesn't sleep much. Sleep is too close to death. It is not a coincidence that most people die in the early hours of the morning. In fact, I have often seen her wandering about after dark.

I was horrified when I realised that you had gone out alone. I should have warned you. It's my fault that you had such an unpleasant and unnecessary encounter."

He thumped the heel of his hand hard against the side of his head.

"I should have warned you about ALL the dangers in this area."

"Don't be so hard on yourself Merlin. "One minute your house is peaceful and quiet and the next minute you've got a houseful and let's not forget, one of those is Gawaine! All those years of sleep have not made him any quieter, have they?"

Merlin cracked a smile. "To be honest Gawaine's enthusiasm for everything has never bothered me. I would rather have you all talking at once than not being here at all. Peace is something I've had more than my fair share of."

He waved his hand in the direction of one of the chairs by the fire.

"Let's sit down and I will tell you everything I know about those who are our enemies and I will tell you my plans for your reintroduction to the world. Then, I think we should gather everyone together so I can let them all know how we will proceed"

Later, when Gwen came looking for her husband, Arthur greeted his wife warmly, shooting what he knew to be an unnecessary warning glance at Merlin. Merlin would know not to mention anything about his unlucky encounter with the witch.

Arthur however now knew that Elizabeth Gilbert was not the only sorcerer in the district and their faces were now firmly fixed in his mind. Practically all of them had the same ancient, rotting looking appearance as the witch and with such repulsive demeanours, he did not imagine that they found it easy to attract people or influence them.

No matter how hard he tried to forget it, he could still remember the miasma of decay that had emanated from the hideous Miss Gilbert.

Revelation

The clock in the hall was striking nine o'clock when Merlin called everyone into the kitchen. For fifteen minutes he explained how he thought the rest of the night would go and then he led them silently up to the stables where all mounted their horses. Ralph and Holly had already fed and saddled the beasts who were now waiting impatiently in their stalls.

They were all dressed in the clothes in which they had slept for a thousand years, so as they rode out into the darkness, they looked like inhabitants of another century.

They rode in silence, going slowly up the hill until they came to the wall of snow and rock near the summit. Here they paused and Merlin stood up in his saddle and looked around.

It was not merely a quick glance but a long hard stare across all of the snowy fields. Nothing moved and all was silent.

With just the wave of Merlin's hand the rock and snow in front of the riders opened up into a yawning hole and everyone followed Merlin into the gloom . As soon as the last rider was inside, the tunnel entrance closed silently behind them.

A pale golden light lit a long high tunnel that led down to the cave in which they had slept for so many centuries. If the horses were in any way frightened by the enclosed space, they gave no sign of it and they stood patiently while their riders dismounted.

"We really need this armour?" asked Arthur, buckling on his breast plate, "and the weapons and the shields?"

"All of it," confirmed his friend.

"We are, expected and your people will want to see a medieval King, not a man wearing modern dress. You are 'King Arthur', the legendary king of a thousand tales of heroism and bravery. There will be time enough for you to be seen in modern dress. For now, it is better and safer that you use the armour and weapons that you are familiar with."

Gawaine had been listening to this exchange.

"We are expected?" he asked, "How can that be when you have kept our presence here such a secret?"

Merlin shrugged, "Some of the things from this century are very useful…social media for one. Ralf has been busy on Facebook and various news media outlets advertising the new art exhibition on the beach at Bamburgh…."

"And that is?"

"The sword in the stone of course," answered Merlin. "it has already created a bit of a stir in the area and tonight Ralph has let it be known that something spectacular will be revealed."

"But won't that attract the attention of your enemies," asked Percival, who had come over to join them.

"Inevitably, but we have to face them some time and on this night at the dawn of the New Year, my powers are greater than ever. Whatever happens, we will be able to deal with it."

He smiled at the tall knight, "You trust me don't you, Percival?"

"Always, Merlin, always."

When everyone was ready, Merlin asked them to mount up. Gawaine turned his horse back to face the tunnel they had entered by. But Merlin called him back.

"We go on through the caves," he said.

Gawaine made a face. The roof of this cave may have been high as had been the roof of the tunnel that led to it, but in his experience tunnels in most cave systems tended to be low ceilinged and claustrophobic. How on earth were they to get horses through such small spaces. The animals would surely panic.

But Merlin only smiled. "Trust me Gawain. The tunnels will never be so low that we may not pass."

And it was exactly as Merlin predicted.

No matter how far they rode into the bowels of the earth the golden light lit the way and as they approached low ceilings the rock above their heads appeared to melt away. Occasionally they were forced to lay over their horses' necks to avoid banging their heads, but for most of the journey they rode as easily as if they had been out in the fields.

On the beach below Bamburgh Castle, at least three hundred people of all ages had gathered. It was still bitingly cold and in places the water lapping the sands had frozen into waves of ice. But there was no wind and the sea was almost as still as a millpond. Above the ocean, the stars blazed and the full moon made a path of glittering silver across the water, a path which seemed to lead directly to a large rock from which jutted a sword. It's jewelled hilt flashed shards of light into the night sky and all gazed at it expectantly.

Something had been promised, something to bring hope for the New Year and thus despite the inclement weather, many had come in the expectation of seeing something that would raise their flagging spirits.

The snow and ice had now lost practically all their charm and with many roads turned into icy death-traps, most of those gathered on the beach had come on foot or horse back.

The online messages had asked that people wear warm clothes and bring torches. Unusually for the north east of England where it was normal to go out on the coldest of evenings in short skirts or shirtsleeves, the instructions had been heeded and all were shapeless in multiple layers of scarves and coats. Some carried flaming torches while others relied on flash lights and mobile phones. But, combined with the light from the night sky the beach was illuminated like a theatre stage.

They had been given a time to arrive and told to wait at the north end of the beach. Now as midnight approached everyone was looking round in anticipation, waiting for the promised spectacle.

There was no clock close enough for chimes to be heard, but on the stroke of midnight a rumbling sound echoed through the night. Almost below the imposing structure of Bamburgh Castle the dunes appeared to rear up.

Sand and stones ran down the sides of a rapidly forming hill and amidst the falling debris a huge hole opened up. Suddenly there appeared the entrance to a cave and through this entrance galloped fifteen figures on horseback.

The spectators gasped in amazement. How could these people have appeared from the sand? It was simply incredible.

As they drew closer, it was obvious that the riders were dressed in armour and carrying shields and swords. One by one they gathered by the huge rock into which was thrust the gleaming sword.

One rider dismounted and climbed up onto the rock. The flickering torches and flashlights illuminated his fine features and dark hair and when he spoke despite the distance between him and the onlookers, everyone could hear him.

"How many of you have tried to draw the sword from the stone? How many of you have attempted to prise the stones from the hilt or even cut the blade from rock? You have all failed and yet there is one here tonight who can take this ancient sword from the stone with ease. He is the 'Once and future King. He is King Arthur!"

A buzz of voices filled the still air. Yes, many of those standing on the beach had tried to draw the sword from the stone and others, the less honourable onlookers had indeed tried to take the jewels or vandalise the weapon in some way. These in particular had come to the beach out of sheer boredom and in the hope of something to relieve the tedium of endless days of dark freezing weather. They were of course not about to admit to their attempts to steal what it had been widely assumed was a new art installation, similar to the figures at Crosby beach.

A man's voice rose above the others. "What is this eh? Is it a play or a pantomime? I left a bloody good party for this." He raised a can of lager to his lips as others joined in, questioning the reason for their late night and very unseasonable visit to the beach.

Merlin answered patiently. "All of you gathered here in this place will see wondrous things that will change your view of the world, that will give you hope in these the darkest of times. You are here to be the first to see the man who will become your king."

"Well get on with it then," grumbled the man who had spoken first. He took another noisy swig from his can and belched loudly. "I want to see something, not just stand about here freezing my nuts off while you make speeches."

There were a few children in the crowd, staying up late to welcome in the new year and the parents with them scowled at the man's crude words.

"No-one's forcing you to be here," complained a tall bearded man shepherding his two children closer to his side.

Merlin spoke again.

"I am Merlin and beside me is King Arthur…yes the real King Arthur, that you have all heard about in legend and folklore. With him is his queen Guinevere, his daughter Melora his two sons Bohart and Merri and the foremost knights of the round table, Lancelot, Percival, Gawaine, Bedivere, Lamorak, Gereint, Galahad, Bors Hector and Tristan. We are all here to serve the people of this land and to lead you out of darkness."

Another voice spoke from the crowd. "You really expect us to think you are the real Merlin? Merlin was an old man with a long white beard and as for Guinevere, well she sure as hell didn't look like that!"

Gwen dropped her head. She felt as if someone had slapped her round the face. In every depiction of Camelot that she had seen, the queen of Camelot had practically always been presented as a blond-haired, blue-eyed princess, not a dark skinned former servant girl. She glanced at her husband. She had so often felt unworthy of her exulted position and even if the people in her former life had accepted her, the citizens of this century were already finding her wanting. She could see anger flashing in her Arthur's eyes and wished fervently that the ground would open up and swallow her.

Merlin's response was not anger. He merely changed his appearance. In seconds he stood before everyone as a white haired, old man with a bead that passed his waist. The transformation was almost instantaneous.

"Does this suit you?" he asked. "I am a sorcerer and a Dragon-lord. I can appear in any guise you want. His face shimmered and he appeared young again, then older with a black beard, then back to his normal appearance."

The crowd gasped. No-one could understand how anyone could change so rapidly in front of their very eyes.

"They're not real shouted a young woman with pink hair. It's some sort of a hologram."

"I am perfectly real," answered Merlin, "come forward and touch me."

The girl glanced round at her friends. Suddenly she was not so sure, but her friend pushed her forward. "Go on Maggie. They can't be real."

Maggie swallowed and not wishing to lose face in front of a girl she always considered to be a bit dim, she strode forward.

As she approached the riders, she knew straight away that the riders were flesh and blood. She could smell the horses. More importantly she could also see some of the most strikingly handsome men she had ever set eyes on. They were quite simply gorgeous! She no longer cared if the slim dark-haired man was real or not. She was more interested in whether any of the handsome riders had girlfriends.

She batted her false eye lashes at Gawaine, who smiled at her.

"Well aren't you going to touch me?" asked Merlin, pulling her back to the task in hand.

"Oh er yea, s'pose so." She reached up and took Merlin's extended hand. Before she knew what was happening, Merlin had hoisted her up beside him. For such a slim man, he was surprisingly strong.

"Am I real?" he asked, "Am I? Are all of us real? Your friends are waiting for your answer. His blue eyes flashed in his chiselled face.

"Y…y…yes. You're real…I mean….", she looked back towards her friends, "He's real….they all are. She turned back to Merlin. "What do I do now?"

"Go back to your friends," Merlin told her.

As she climbed down onto the snow, Merlin asked for a show of hands.

"If you have tried to pull the sword from the stone or tried to dislodge it in any way, raise your hand. I will know if you try to deceive me."

Some hands went up immediately, others more slowly. Practically half the crowd had tried something.

"Now watch the rightful king of this land take hold of his sword."

Arthur, his blond hair and golden circlet shining in the moonlight, dismounted and leapt up onto the rock. He leaned forward and grasping the sword pulled it cleanly from the stone. He held it aloft and many of the onlookers gasped. How could he do something so easily that had proved impossible for so many?

A new voice spoke from the sand. "It's just a trick. There's just a 'release' mechanism somewhere."

Arthur could not see who it was, but he knew that it was his turn to speak.

He held the sword aloft.

"This is my sword, Excalibur. I have not held it in my hand for many, many centuries. For more than a thousand years I have slept in an enchanted cave. I was an old man when I was defeated in my last battle and yet now, I stand before you, renewed by magic, as do all of my family and my knights. For you I am just a legend, but I can assure you I am real and if you will allow me, I will claim my throne again.

This land is facing its darkest days since the dawn of time. Mankind has plundered this earth for riches and killed so many living creatures that many now live on the brink of extinction. In return man has filled this world with rubbish. The careless pollution of the air and the seas has changed the climate so much that the deserts reach out into what was once fertile land, great forests burn and rivers dry up. But while some die in intense heat and fire, others perish from a cold they have never experienced before or are drowned in the rising tides of the oceans or the flooding of lakes and rivers. The balance of the world has been destroyed.

Many of you try to deny that man has caused these catastrophic changes. You turn your heads from those who promise you that it is true and yet you stand here in the bitter cold, in a place where you have not seen the grass or the earth beneath your feet for weeks. What is more you know that beyond these shores many die of disease and soon this illness will be at your door. If you do nothing soon there will be nowhere to hide.

We must try and prevent this pestilence from reaching us BUT, at the same time, we must find a way to help our brothers and sisters across the sea. We cannot selfishly desert them in their hour of need."

From the midst of the crowd a slow handclap sounded. A figure dressed in black pushed forward and stood a little in front of the crowd.

His face looked shiny, almost waxy and he was painfully thin. His cheek bones jutted out of his face, his skin seemingly stretched across his scull. He was not an attractive sight.

His long black, leather coat swirled about him as he strode forward, although he paused several yards from the rock on which Merlin and Arthur stood.

Despite his apparent bravado and distain, it was almost as if he were afraid to go further.

Both his hands were clenched into fists, but as he came to a stop, despite the cold, he pulled off his black gloves. The fingers revealed were long and thin, the nails yellowed and brittle.

He half turned back towards the onlookers.

"You don't believe all this rubbish, do you?" He gave a harsh chuckle. His voice was rasping and unpleasant and it reminded Arthur of the witch.

"King Arthur? Do me a favour! A bunch of show-offs dressed in armour and a black woman trying to pass herself off as the legendary Queen Guinevere. I think not. And 'Global Warming'? What is the temperature tonight? Please, someone, do tell me. Why it's so warm, we must all be sweating like pigs in our winter clothes."

"Climate change, you idiot!"

A young man with a knitted hat pulled down low over his brow, regarded 'wax face' with a sneer. "It's people like you that have allowed all this to happen."

'Wax face's' eyes narrowed and his fingers twitched.

Arthur could almost swear he saw faint sparks coming from the ugly man's hands. He looked towards his wife. Once more she had her head bowed and he longed to go and stand close to her or better still to mount his horse and lead her off the beach. He would not have her insulted, doubted or mocked for anything. He nudged Merlin's arm.

"Is that a…"

Merlin met his eyes briefly. "Don't worry, I have this under control. I expected no less."

"But Gwen…he has insulted her!"

Merlin shook his head. "It's all right," he urged. "Do not react to the provocation. I am far more powerful than my enemies can even begin to know. Gwen is in no danger and we have all been insulted before."

Arthur knew that Merlin spoke the truth, but he could not help himself. He jumped off the rock and went to stand in front of Gwen, still mounted on her horse.

"You are an ignorant and evil creature," Merlin shouted at 'wax face'"

"And you are a trickster and a fraud. No one believes in your fairy tale."

"How did he change his face like that?" shouted a young boy, standing with his elder brother.

"It is, as some bright spark suggested…holograms. Nothing science can't explain."

"But they are real," argued the girl with the pink hair, flashing her eyes at Gawaine again and worryingly for Merlin, totally unaware that she might be in any danger.

"They may be real, but they are NOT who they say they are. This is just a New Year's Eve stunt!"

'Wax face's' fingers twitched again and this time other people saw the sparks. Unease spread through the crowd and yet if asked no-one would have been able to say why. Unpleasant though the man in black was, he appeared to be by himself.

But, of course he was not alone and almost imperceptibly other figures were separating themselves from the crowd and moving forward. Among them was the witch.

She turned to face the crowd.

"It is as my fellow scientist says. You are being fooled by some very clever technology. This IS a show…nothing more."

Merlin's voice boomed over hers and unlike her, he did not need to shout to be heard.

"I know it is difficult to believe and many of you either do not know or do not want to know how much danger you are in. This planet has almost reached the point of no return. If we do not do something now, you are all doomed. In a matter of decades you will all be dead….either from war, disease or starvation. That is why Arthur has returned NOW. He can lead you and take you away from this path of self-destruction and he is the only one who can. While your politicians squabble, you continue ever onwards to your deaths.

Believe me and believe in your true king.

Do not try and fit the people who you see before you into the stereotypes of the old legends. Most of what you think you know is only half true, the real circumstances of their lives and their appearances embellished and altered to the taste of the storytellers. I stand before you a young man, but I have lived the span of more than a thousand lives. Do you know what it is like to live that long….to watch ALL those you love die? Can you imagine the sheer tedium of everyday life and the utter loneliness of living forever in the shadows? I should look like that, a shadow of a man and yet I stand before you young and fit as do all my companions. Only magic can do this….the magic of Avalon, home of the immortals and the place from which all magic flows."

"So where is Avalon?" shouted a lone voice.

"I was told it was Glastonbury Tor," answered another voice.

Merlin shook his head.

"Avalon is hidden from mortals. It does not exist in your world although over the centuries many have been saved from drowning by the boat from Avalon that roams the seas."

"So, it's definitely not Glastonbury," said a disappointed voice.

"No, although once the area round the Tor was water and where there is water, the boat from Avalon may appear. Board the boat and you may see the island through the mist."

There was silence for a moment as the onlookers tried to digest the information they had been given. It sounded fantastic, ridiculous, unbelievable and yet they found themselves believing it. Was this real? Could it be? Oh… if only!

But almost as the crowd began to believe, 'wax face' spoke again.

"Ever heard of mass hypnosis? Hysteria? That's what is happening to you now…just like in all those weird church meetings where people start gibbering and claiming they can speak 'in tongues'…just like the idiots who pick up snakes and think their religion will save them from the snake's venom. It's all delusion and hysteria, carefully choreographed by those who would relieve them of their money. Tonight, you are afraid. You are afraid therefore you want to believe."

Merlin's sigh was almost inaudible to those nearest to him and yet everyone in the crowd heard him.

"If you still don't believe, I will call for something to convince you."

Merlin turned towards the sea and began to shout into the sky.

No-one understood anything but the first two words, "Oh Dragon…"

For maybe thirty seconds, nothing happened and then came a sound like a pulsing wind. As it came closer, a shadow seemed to block out the moon and then a shape that all recognised, but could not believe, flew down the river of moonlight and landed in the shallows.

Ice and sand flew up as Aithusa, the white dragon thundered on to the beach. In the light of the night sky and the hundreds of torches, she glittered and sparkled.

Those watching from the dunes were at once afraid and mesmerised. THIS could NOT be real!

And yet, everyone felt the temperature around them rise. This thing, whatever it was, was actually heating the atmosphere.

"You think your eyes deceive you," said Merlin, his voice still carrying easily above the rattle of the dragon's scales and the thud of her footsteps as she prowled at the water's edge.

"This is a dragon and as I am a dragon lord, she must obey me. This is Aithusa!"

The white dragon made a kind of a bow and a few sparks blew from her nostrils.

"Now I know I've had too much to drink," said the man who had complained about leaving his party.

But others were moving backwards. This dragon thing was huge and they could not only hear it breathing but actually feel the warmth of its breath on their faces.

"Do not be afraid," Merlin told them. "Aithusa will not harm you, but if there are any of you who still think that this is a hologram, come forward and place your hand on the dragon's skin. If she is indeed a hologram, then what have you got to fear? Maybe one of those who are so keen to say that I am a liar would like to come forward….perhaps YOU sir, in the leather coat, or YOU madam."

His gaze landed on Elizabeth Gilbert and she felt an icy shard of fear pierce her heart.

She clenched her fists. She could not be afraid. It was for this moment that she had forced herself to live on, to override death, to remain in the world. It was her destiny to finish this threat to the power of dark magic once and for all.

She looked toward the figure in the leather coat. He was superior to her and she surely could not act without him.

A boy of about fourteen, suddenly ran forward and approached the dragon. If he was afraid, then he hid his fear well, at least until he was but a few feet from Aithusa.

There he stopped. His cheeks grew rosy as he felt the warmth of the dragon's breath.

He glanced over towards Merlin and Merlin nodded.

"Touch her. Feel the life within her. Know that she is a living, breathing creature. I give my word that she will not harm you. She is here solely for your protection. And", here he turned back towards the crowd, "she has children…eleven in all…some full grown and bigger than she is."

The boy's mouth dropped open at the thought that there could be more such creatures. He moved forward cautiously and stretched out his hand to the glittering scales. His hands were very cold and the warmth of the dragon's body was a tonic to his frozen fingers

He could feel the lifeblood of the dragon as it pulsed through the creature's huge body and he had no doubt that he was touching a living, breathing creature.

He stepped back. "OMG," he breathed, "It's a real dragon…..an actual living, breathing dragon!"

Merlin allowed himself to smile.

"This boy is brave. Come all of you, come closer. See and touch a real dragon."

The crowd who had been watching with bated breath, began to move forward, but the group who had separated themselves from them blocked their way.

'Wax face' spoke again. "You surely don't believe this do you…a dragon on Bamburgh beach? Can we all get real here?"

The boy who had touched Aithusa answered.

"If you don't believe, that's your problem. Why don't you take your friends and go away. You stink anyway!"

"How dare you, boy! Get out of my way!"

He raised his hands and a lightening bolt of light flashed through the air. The boy stumbled and fell into the sand and snow.

There was a collective gasp, and Merlin leapt from the rock.

As Merlin's own hands came up there was a cry from Elizabeth Gilbert.

"Frauds!" she screamed, "Charletons!"

"Shields up!" shouted Merlin as bolts of lightning sprang from the fingertips of those who had now separated themselves completely from the rest of the people on the beach.

In that moment, Arthur understood why all of them, even Gwen and Melora were carrying shields.

As they raised their arms, their shields glowed with a blue light and the lightning bolts aimed in their direction fizzled into nothing.

Merlin had done nothing. He stood amidst a circle of crackling blue flames and yet he was unhurt.

The boy who had fallen staggered to his feet, while those with younger children began to back away in haste. However, the rest stood watching the unfolding spectacle like rabbits caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. They were undoubtedly alarmed and even afraid, but they found they could not turn away from what appeared to be some kind of magical battle. They did however put distance between themselves and the witches and worlocks.

"It's all a trick," shouted Elizabeth Gilbert, her voice so harsh that it made the onlookers wince.

"This is a display for you to watch. It's just a fantasy. Do not be taken in. They are playing on your fears. They'll be asking you for money next"

"Maybe they're aliens," suggested someone uncertainly.

But others were already prepared to believe. "It's bloody real," shouted someone and yet another "It's King Arthur. It really is. He's come to save us!"

"And if it's not real, what's with all the blue lightening?" shouted yet another voice from the crowd.

Elizabeth Gilbert and her companions moved closer together, sparks flashing out from their fingers and then with a shriek, Elizabeth Gilbert hurled her hands forward. She could not wait for an order. They had to act now, to use all their power now or they would lose this chance forever.

"Kill them all!" she cried

Her companions followed her actions and this time the air itself seemed to catch fire.

The crowd of onlookers stumbled ever further backwards

The riders seemed to be lit up by the fire that burned in the air and yet it did not consume them. Their horses reared and stamped but none took flight and when the stream of flames ended, neither horses nor riders appeared to have been injured.

The group led by 'wax face' were now seemingly unable to control the flames and it was as if the hands of each one of them was ablaze.

Aithusa opened her huge mouth and fire poured out of her gaping jaws in the direction of Merlin's enemies.

"The dragon, the dragon!" screeched 'wax face' He was clearing panicking now "kill it, kill it!" he bellowed.

The witches and warlocks began to lift off the ground. The flames coming from their fingertips seemed to be living entities. They curled and twisted in the air, flashing blue and orange.

Aithusa's silvery, white skin seemed to turn from blue to purple, but it was just a reflection of the flames and the fire had no effect on the huge dragon's skin. Aithusa reared up on her hind legs and from her mouth flowed a river of blood red fire.

'Wax face' staggered back as did his companions. Again, they struck out at the fire with fire of their own, but it was hopeless and soon the air was filled with the smell of singed hair and burnt flesh.

As they turned to flee, half the crowd were ahead of them, running for safety and even those who remained were sheltering behind the low-lying dunes. But many just could not leave the beach. Mesmerised, they watched partly in horror and partly in awe as the magical battle played out in front of them. Not one of them had ever seen anything like it in their lives. It was stunning and terrifying, but they found themselves unable to look away.

And they were not just watching. More than 150 phones were filming the unearthly spectacle.

As the singed and burning figures crashed past the spectators Merlin's voice rang out above the sounds of chaos.

"These creatures are your enemies," he shouted. "Do not worry that the dragon has killed them. The dragon has not killed them because they have been as good as dead for decades. They have survived so long for one reason and one reason alone, to kill the King who can save you, who can lead you to a safe future. Without him you have no hope"

Arthur was already leaping into his saddle.

"Do we give chase?" he shouted.

"No, let them go. They have been touched by the breath of a dragon. Their death is certain."

Arthur frowned. How could Merlin be so sure. But he did not try and follow the fleeing figures and he gave the command to all to stand firm.

Merlin's voice rang out once again,

"I have shown you, your king. I have shown you the power of magic. It is up to you now to decide if you will take Arthur as your ruler."

The young man who had previously suggested the riders on the beach might be aliens, put forward his suggestion again.

"They MUST be aliens," he said loudly. "Come on everyone! There's no other possible explanation."

"Which planet are you from?" he asked, walking boldly towards Arthur.

Arthur regarded him coolly.

"I am no alien," he told him. "I am as human as you and the only planet I have ever walked on is this one…earth.

The young man stared at him and Arthur stared back, his gaze unflinching.

The man continued to walk forward and when he was close enough, tentatively put out a hand to touch Diablo.

The horse snorted and tossed his head but the young man did not step back. He knew about horses. His was a jump jockey and he was standing in front of one of the finest pieces of horseflesh he had ever seen.

"Well the horse is real," he confirmed and then he looked up at the rider.

The man he saw seemed undoubtedly human. His light hair moved in the icy breeze which had sprung up and his blue eyes were shrewd and penetrating.

Arthur reached down, offering his hand and the young man took it.

The hand was warm and dry and strong. Indeed there was nothing remarkable or intimidating about its grip and yet the jockey found himself with an almost irresistible urge to bow.

The boy who had touched Aithusa walked over.

He appeared to have no doubts. He made an elaborate bow in front of Arthur. "You are MY king," he said.

And then slowly others started to come forward until someone shouted "Long live the king!"

Arthur seized the chance to speak again.

"Thank you," he began, "for believing in me. Thank you for offering me your allegiance. I hope that many more will follow and that those of you who have seen me here tonight will tell others of my return. Many, many more must come to accept me before I can be your king and I promise you that when that day comes, I will be there to lead you out of this darkness.

We must turn our back on division. We must turn our backs on hate. It matters not what colour or religion a person is, what customs they hold sacred, we are all mankind and we must act as one. We must forego our petty divisions and prejudices. We must turn our back on bad leaders, and all who strive only for their own advancement. We must turn our back on liars and false prophets. The evidence of what man has done to the world is all around us, but if we strive together it is not too late to save ourselves and save this world."

The crowd erupted into applause and Aithusa rose into the sky. Merlin got down from the rock and remounted his horse.

With just a nod to Arthur, he led the way back down the beach towards the castle, the horses first trotting then breaking into a gallop. The remaining onlookers watched in stunned amazement as once more the dunes rose up with a rumble and a great gaping hole appeared in a hill of sand.

The riders galloped inside and the sand sunk back, covering the hole so that no trace of the cave entrance remained.

People ran to try and find where the riders had gone, but there was nothing but sand and snow and grass. Only the hoof prints of the horses remained to prove that the riders had been there at all.

Not far away Elizabeth Gilbert collapsed into a car which had been parked on the road nearest the castle.

"Drive," she croaked to the man who sat silently in the driver's seat.

The tyres had been fitted with chains and the man reversed smoothly and set off almost as fast as if it had been a summer night.

The chains bit into the ice that covered everything and the powerful four by four sped along the empty roads.

When the car came to a stop by a house with high-walled garden and two twisted chimneys, Elizabeth Gilbert staggered out of the car.

She clutched at the wing mirror to stay upright and then stumbled through the gate.

Her driver watched her go through and then drove away. He had been well, paid and he did not care what happened to his passenger. Despite the freezing temperature, he opened the window to get rid of the stink emanating from the back seat.

Elizabeth barely managed to get to her sitting-room. A fire blazed in the grate and she fell onto the rug in front of it.

"All those years," she gasped, "all those years I searched for him and yet when I saw him, alone and unguarded, I let him slip through my fingers. When I saw him…I knew there was something…I saw the light around him…..the glow of Avalon. Why didn't I act? Why? How did I let him live? How?"

She was howling as a spark from the fire fell on to the carpet, but she felt no pain as her skirt caught fire. The dragon's breath had seared her skin and allowed the decay inside to multiply. By the time her hair was ablaze, she was already dead.

In the darkness of a hundred twisting tunnels fifteen riders galloped.

As dawn was breaking, they emerged from the hillside.

In the growing light, they rode slowly, each one alone with their thoughts. As they started down the slope towards Merlin's house, the first rays of the sun lit up the rider at the head of the column. It was not Merlin. He rode at the rear of the riders and as the golden light fell on the figure of his king, he smiled. The dawn was breaking on a new world, a world he had begun to believe he would never see. But his years of isolation and loneliness were finally over. Magic had returned the world and from this moment on nothing would ever be the same again!


End file.
